


Massage Therapy

by Stickythings



Category: Fast and the Furious Series, Hobbs & Shaw (2019)
Genre: Bottom Shaw, Domestic Fluff, Foot Massage, Hand Massage, Hobbs is smitten, M/M, Shaw is chuffed, Shaw is smitten, big dick Luke Hobbs, call the cops i'll have sex with them, i don't have a foot fetish i swear, it's not ooc, power bottom Shaw, rimmig, top Hobbs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:00:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 28,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24144766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stickythings/pseuds/Stickythings
Summary: “So let me get his straight Deck, you want to climb this big, brown, well endowed, tattooed, mountain of a man?”“Fucking hell, fuck it I’m out.” Deckard growled
Relationships: Luke Hobbs/Deckard Shaw
Comments: 72
Kudos: 286





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is dedicated to sghg181. I originally followed her for her Superbat art, but then Shobbs art kept coming up on my dash. After a few months of seeing it, I became curious as to why this ship was even sailing. I said fuck it I'll watch that ridiculous movie and see what the fuss is about. Now here I am, rolling around in this filth. Its great.
> 
> (tinamatua - grandma in Samoan)

They all decided to stay on the island afterwards. The Hobbs family and all those extended were generous hosts who had wanted to show the two Shaws a proper warm welcome. After some minor protesting from Hattie and a lot from Deckard, Mrs. Hobbs had worn them down and demanded they stay at the family home. The initial dread of coming home and facing his familial consequences had all resolved themselves relatively peacefully once Sam was flown in. Luke had never seen his mother so happy to have new guests and family, returned and new, under her roof once more. It was good to be home. It was good to eat a home cooked meal, and it was even better to see the organized chaos of each meal being prepared. Mrs Hobbs cooked the breakfast with help from the children, but lunch and dinner was a messy affair that involved an unspoken roster. More often than not Luke found himself in the kitchen cooking with Hattie, Deckard and Sam.  
Hattie had apologised for the kiss, in a very stiff English manner, telling him he was the worst post-possible-death kiss she had ever had. Luke begrudgingly had to agree, he had his eye on another Brit from the start.  
This little lick of interest towards the Big Bad Brother Shaw, had grown from admiring the view and enjoying the banter, to lighting up into full blown attraction once he saw how gentle and engaged Deckard was with Sam and his family.  
Sam had taken over as master chef during lunch service and she took Deckard as her apprentice chef. Luke had seen the footage of Deckard rescuing baby Brian, so he wasn’t worried about the man around his daughter, but he was surprised at how much Deckard put the charm on for Sam. None of it was forced, none of it was patronising, and none of it was for show for Luke or Mrs. Hobbs.  
Deckard genuinely enjoyed Sams company, and that only made his attraction blaze brighter.  
This attraction and sexual frustration could go nowhere of course. Deckard was straight, he was going back to England and the sky was blue. Simple facts.  
But that didn’t mean Luke couldn’t try to have a little fun.

It was a beautiful Sunday. A few hours had passed since lunch and the crew decided to take a break from the work shop to go for a swim. Jonah rounded up the boys and girls, and took them to the beach.  
Hattie was with the group, wearing a simple purple bikini borrowed from one of the island women. Luke had decided to join them and threw on a pair of swim trunks, and wrapped a lavalava around his waist. It had become old habit to go shirtless with the sweet heat of the Somoian sun. 

“Deck.” Luke called, walking into the garage, “you coming to the beach or what.”

“You go ahead, I’m gonna stay and finish this up.” The Brit called from under a 50’s Chevy.  
Luke bent down and gave the trolly a sharp tug, pulling a cursing and a frowning Brit from underneath. 

“Hold up, sunshine, you got any nickers under that dress or you planning to flash me?” Deck sat up and glared at Luke, tossing his ratchet to the floor.

Luke huffed out a laugh, “Get out into the sunshine Princess, and I promise I’ll find you something pretty to wear.”

Deckard stood and shrugged his jacket. “Yeah, not happening, I know you folks don’t have sunscreen.” He turned towards his toolbox but stopped at a tentative hand on his elbow.

“C’mon Deck, when was the last time you went to the beach? I know they don’t have beaches like this in England.”

Deckard frowned up at the Luke and jutted his chin out. “Well I won’t be bloody going out in a skirt.”

*

Luke sat nursing a beer as he watched from the warm sand the kids played in the shallows. Hattie was with them, balancing on a boggy board or swinging them around in the gentle surf.  
He had left the garage earlier with Deck, with the promise he would come join them. But once they went into the family house to find something to wear, Luke stating Deck could wear anything and it would be fine, Mrs Hobbs had found the Brit and took him away, telling Luke to get to the beach already. That had been some time ago.  
Luke sighed and looked up the mountain side towards his home longingly only to pause and stare open mouthed at the sight of his mother and Deckard walking towards him.

Now the sight should not have been erotic, for one his mother was there. Two Deckard wasn’t showing any skin. He had desperately hoped to get the Brit shirtless before they left. So that he could at least fuel his one-sided desires a little more. Yet somehow, this was more fitting.  
Deckard wore a black swim suit. From neck to ankle he was zipped up at the back like he was going deep sea diving. He looked as menacing as ever dressed all in black with a red strip down each side. But still so damn charming as he smiled at Mrs Hobbs. 

“Shut ya mouth Darling, it’s not polite to stare.” Deck smirked, coming to stand next to a sitting Luke. The height still put Luke at stomach height. He shut his mouth, with no reply forthcoming as his mother sat next to him. 

Deckard squinted into the sunshine and took in the sight of his sister playing in the waves before strolling towards the group. 

“This white boy you brought” Mrs Hobbs started, “You need to cover that delicate skin up, he’s too pale for the sun. You remember when you take him and Sam to the beach, he’s going to need a lot of sunscreen.”

“I ah, I won’t be taking him to the beach, mum.”

“Why not, he got somewhere to be in England? Family?”

“Well-“ Luke gestured with his hand, “-his sister and brother.”

“No partner?”

“I don’t know.” Luke grimaced; he hadn’t really wanted to think about that.  
Mrs Hobbs patted his knee and stood up, “Shame we don’t have sunscreen, could have dressed him in a pair of your cousins shorts and you could have lathered him up, aye?”

“Mum!”  
Mrs. Hobbs hit him upside the head, then kissed his forehead, “enjoy the view.”

His mother and some of the other relatives began to walk back home, and while Luke was embarrassed that his mother was still able to read him so easily, he did enjoy the view.

Once wet the bathing suit clung to Decks body, revealing all the ridges, and bumps of his torso, the breadth of his shoulders, the tantalizing curve of his arse and thick thighs. Luke even found himself sitting closer to the shore so he could take in the subtle lines of his calves and ankles. And dammit if he didn’t feel like a Victorian maid for getting all hot and bothered by a fully clothed but wet Deckard Shaw.

*

As the evening continued, more relatives parted ways and took their children home, and a comfort fire was lit on the sands. Some food and more beer were brought down from the house for the remaining few.  
Luke was lounging back on the sand, propped up on an elbow as he listened to Hattie and Jonah talk, Sam asleep in her arms wrapped in a throw. He kept an eye on Deck too. The Brit was collecting wood with some others, the waters now too dangerous to swim in as Dusk descended.  
The drift wood was tossed onto a pile and Deckard walked over and flopped down next to him. 

“Shove over sunshine.” Deckard kicked back and swung his feet up into his lap. With no intention to move the Brit snagged a beer, and joined in the conversation with Hattie and Chase.  
Luke, who now had his lap full, went to push off the Brit, but his hands stilled as it settled above the man’s ankle. Deckard was pale, and with the black wetsuit clinched above a round but deceptively delicate looking ankle the contrast was stark. His own thumb moved to follow the curve of the bone, another contrast; his hand was so big compared with Deckard’s foot, which was to be expected. But once again Luke found himself feeling like a Victorian lady at how flustered he felt. 

On instinct it seemed, he gripped the foot with both hands, twisted a little to get a better angle and pressed his thumbs gently into the arch and pressed upwards. The cool ocean wind, and the gentle cracking of the fire seemed to aid in hypnotising him as his attention focused in on how Deckard’s toes spread as Luke’s thumbs pressed in an out, massaging the ball of his foot and arch.  
He quickly got into a rhythm, slowly increasing the pressure on the arch. He cradled the delicate bones of the back of his foot with his fingers and moved to tug at Deckard’s toes in a sweeping motion, his thumbs dug into his arch all the way up to his toes. He hadn’t noticed Deckard had finished speaking, he hadn’t even noticed how both feet lay at ease and straight in his lap. He hadn’t noticed anything until he heard a dreamy groan from the side, “knew your big hands had to be good something.” 

Luke didn’t even consider tossing the feet off his lap as a retort, he only glanced at Deckard to find him sprawled on the sand, arm over his eyes, beer forgotten in the sand, and his pale neck stretched out.  
Just how long had he been doing this for?  
“Well don’t stop now, for Christ sake, “ the brit mumbled, raising the forearm from his face and exposing a sleepy frown. “c’mon.” Deckard lazily shook his other foot before hiding his face once more.  
Luke, not knowing how to respond, and not wanting to look over at Hattie and Jonah, obliged. 

Deckard had never been given a foot massage. Strange sure, but a good physio session was enough to get him back into the field.  
He had been fucking missing out. Because this? This was fucking divine. Whereas a back massage had always been forced relaxation, his muscles never giving way and always having to be forced to ease themselves part. Luke had simply coaxed all those tight muscles to gently, and slowly relax with soothing, but commanding pressure. Much like the man himself, Deckard conceded.  
The fire crackled and hissed, the sand beneath him was still warm and he was in heaven. Those big strong hands encased his foot, one at a time and sent his whole body into some strange hypnotised relaxation. He barely held in his groans of pleasure as each swipe near his toes sent tingles straight up his leg. The wide steady pressure of thumbs digging into his arch made him melt into the sand, and by god he had needed his. This whole fuck up of a mission was everything Deckard didn’t know he needed, and now he so desperately wanted to keep it. Because fuck, this had been a fun couple of days, and what an conclusion. Lying on a beach in Samoa, getting a good ol’ foot massage in front of a fire, by a hot piece of ass whose smile rivalled the sun for all the cheer and bloody radiance it could bring to a room. 

*

The next time Luke gave Deckard a massage it was intentional, but still not planned.  
They were on a private jet back to the states, courtesy of Dinkley, after spending a wonderful three weeks in Samoa.  
Hattie was taking a nap and Deckard was sitting at the small table cleaning his new collection of guns.  
Luke had just been speaking to the pilot and making sure Sam would behave herself while in the cockpit, before he walked in and saw the scene.

“You know, when they issued you those, I’m pretty sure they were clean.”

Deckard didn’t look up, dismantling a magnum and putting the pieces on the table. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you to clean and check your own weapons?”

Luke laughed and sat down across from him. “You’ve met my mother, what do you think?”  
It was only then that Deckard looked up and smiled, “Yeah, more likely to tell you to sharpen a spear then pick up one of these.”

“That’s the island way baby.” 

They sat in comfortable silence for some time. Deckward fiddling and cleaning, while Luke had pulled out a paperback to read.  
It was at the 30-minute mark that Deckard let out a whispered curse and shook his hand out before resuming cleaning tiny springs. It happened again 5 minutes later, and again another 3 minutes later.  
Luke huffed, put down his book and held out his hand. “You’ve gotten cramps. Degrease your hands and pass ‘em here.”

It spoke volumes of their fast friendship and forged trust, that Deckard only raised a brow wiped off his hands and held out a hand.  
Luke dragged Deck a little closer before pressing his thumbs into the palm of his hands and running them down to the end of his palm then back up, paying special attention to the pads of each joint at the base of his fingers.  
Deckard bit his lip and held in a groan. 

“You’ve got too much tension to do that properly.” Luke surmised, turning the Brits hand again before working on each finger, stretching it out and rubbing it down.

“I could build a gun with two left feet, sunshine.”  
Luke grinned, “I’m sure you could, but these hands have taken a battering in the past couple of days. You treat ‘em right, and they’ll be back to knitting in no time.”

“Oh fuck off.” 

But Deckard made no move to pull away, if anything he got more comfortable. He cleared a space with his free hand to rest his elbow and looked out the window as Luke sent his nerve endings to nirvana. Fuck he wished he had anything but gun lubricant on him, anything to make Luke’s large damn hands slide against his more easily. But Christ was it good. How had he never even considered a hand massage a thing?  
He could feel how tense his other hand was in comparison now; how tight everything was pulled in constant anticipation and preparation of an attack. And god damn did it feel good to just let it fade out. 

Deckard could feel himself drooping, wanting to lay down or something, because each time Luke massaged his fingers, palm, or even the tight skin between each finger, Deck could swear tension eased so promptly from his whole body that his head was about to drop to the table any minute.  
Instead he cleared his throat, gently tugged his hand closer to himself and leaned back in his chair. Luke, the truly good boy that he was followed and leaned over the table. Still diligently working away.  
Deckward had gone into a pleasure stupor by the time Luke gently placed one hand down on the table and picked up the other. Deckard offered up his hand instantly, easing his fingers out before curling them back in relaxation. He quite delighted in being pampered.

“Keep that up sunshine and tell us when we’ve landed.” Deckard smirked, shrugging his shoulders and easing back into his seat. 

“I can tell you’re used to being pampered princess.”

“On the contrary Hobbs, this is simply a reward for your good behaviour.”

“Luke. I think you could probably stretch your vocabulary to include Luke now, unless that’s one too many words for your pretty little head.”  
Deckard smirked back, “careful there Luke, a hand massage then first name basis, next I’ll be adopting your kid as my own.”

At this Luke laughed and looked back into the doorway leading to the cockpit. “She’ll give you a run for your money.”

“Yeah I don’t doubt that. Think I’ll stick to life risking missions rather then raising a teenage girl.”

They both shared a fond smile before lapsing into a comfortable silence. Luke concentrated on dragging his big thumbs up and over the Brits palm, sliding in between each finger before giving them a gentle pull and twist. And while he was there, he may have paid close attention to the absence of a wedding ring, or even a tan line remanence of a past marriage. It didn’t surprise him that Deckard probably hadn’t been married, hell he had been in hiding for eight years. And Luke didn’t have any ring mark left behind to show his failure of a relationship. But he still couldn’t help but look and ponder about who Deck had possibly been with.  
Watching Deckard sink into such a vulnerable relaxed state had Luke’s head swimming with just how much he wanted his man. Each time he eased a particularly tight muscle, Deckard’s mouth would drop open, his brows would crease, before releasing a small breath and relaxing back into it.  
Fuck was that image going to the spank bank, because while Luke knew he was being lecherous, he just couldn’t help but indulge himself. Deckard would be going back to England once they hit American soil anyway, and so if he over stepped the friendship line by imagining Deckard pulling that face as he eased his cock into him, well that was something he could feel guilty about later. Much later. For now, he’d enjoy the show and take pride in causing the brilliant and deadly Deckard Shaw to fall asleep during a hand massage. 

*

Once they landed in LA Luke was not prepared to see Hattie grab her bag and begin walking straight from the stairwell of their private towards another jet on the other side of the tarmac. 

“It’s been fun Hobbs.” Hattie turned and smiled, swinging her bag over one shoulder.

“Yeah, lets do this again some time.” Luke grinned and pulled Sam close, but was unable to look away from Deckard as he began walking towards his sister. 

“Yeah, sure, I’ll inject something far more deadly next time yeah?” Hattie grinned, her keen eyes watching the silent and strange exchange between both men. 

“Deck, didn’t you always want to check out the LA nightlife?”  
Luke watched as the Brit cast a look over him and Sam before looking into the setting sun, then back at his sister. “We’ve got a lot of catching up to do Kit.”

Hattie rolled her eyes, “Yeah sure, and I’ll still be there, so why not…” She let the sentence trail off and Luke finally saw the opportunity she was presenting. 

“Stay with us!” 

Deckard shrugged his shoulders again before grimacing and looking away. “I couldn’t impose.”

“Oh please, you’ve already stayed with tinamatua, you may as well see how the other half live.” Sam piped up, walking over and grabbing Deckard’s new travel bag.

At Deckard’s incredulous but fond look, Luke threw his hands up with a big grin. “The lady has spoken, better get that arse into gear Shaw.”  
He could see the Brit was barely repressing a grin as he replied, “Deckard. since I’ll be staying at your home, you may as well use my first name.”

“Nah, I prefer Princess.”

*

The car ride home had been easy. Deckard and Sam chatted the whole way, both pointing out different sights and making a running commentary.  
And once home Sam grabbed Deckard’s hand and took him on the grand tour, Luke slowly following behind cleaning up the abandoned mess as he went.  
Once they reached the guest room door, Sam leaned against it, “So this is your room” she twisted the knob and pushed it open, “as you can see dad never has guests  
stay over, so it’s a complete mess.” 

Deckard raised his brows at the statement and leaned in. He could see how it had once been a guest room. It had the basics; a window, sliding wardrobe, en suite, and a bed. The bed and floor however were covered with boxes, clothes, and numerous exercise equipment. 

“Ah, I’m to sleep in a storage room, how romantic Luke.” Deckard smirked, looking over his shoulder at the larger man.

Luke only sighed in agitation and placed his hands on his hips. “You go ahead and show Deck around the kitchen Sam, get something to eat and I’ll sort this out.”  
Sam took Deckard’s bag, tossed it in with the mess, to the amusement of both men, before taking his hand and leading him back towards the kitchen. 

“Later I’ll show you dads home gym, it is so great.”

*

Once the guest room had been cleared, cleaned, and given a new set of sheets, the group lounged about in front of the tv after a big meal of Chinese take out.  
Sam lay on the floor, her legs swinging back and forth. A David Attenborough documentary playing on the big screen. Deckard was sprawled on the couch, an empty beer bottle hanging from his limp fingers while he gave the odd bit of sarcastic commentary. Sam would either join in or giggle at the accents Deckard would give various animals.

Luke walked in from the kitchen with an easy grin. Sam was in her pyjamas; a pink striped set with matching fluffy socks, while Deckard had gone from his comfortable and loose t-shirt and jeans, back into a navy turtle neck and soft looking woollen trousers. His feet were bare on the carpet.  
Luke look in the scene of easy domesticity and told himself to just enjoy it for what it was, and not wish for more. These moments between the three of them would be brief, and over far too soon.  
He walked over to the couch, took Deckard’s empty beer bottle before replacing it with a new one. Once the old bottles were placed in the recycling, Luke came back and pushed Deckard’s legs off the couch before settling down himself. Cracking open his beer Luke took a long pull before sighing back into the soft leather and spread his legs out.  
The documentary was just beginning to delve back into the deep ocean when Luke felt Deckard swing his legs back onto the couch, his feet landing against the inside of his left thigh. The Brits heel was way too close to his crotch, but before Luke could push those pale feet off him, those pale toes wiggled, “Be a dear won’t you.” Deckard smirked, taking a sip of his beer. 

Luke rolled his eyes but grinned back, “I show you one moment of tenderness, and here you are taking advantage. I don’t know what else I was expecting.” Even as he said this Luke snatched up one foot and pulled and skimmed his thumbs along the length of the Achilles heel.

Deckard grinned and tipped his bottle towards him. “It’s why I put up with you dear.”

“Deck.” Sam called from the floor.

“Yeah poppet?”  
Luke raised his brows at the pet name, not knowing Deckard had already formed such a relationship with his daughter.

“You ever fought a shark?”

Luke began to laugh, just the image of Deckard Shaw fighting a shark under water, and no doubt relying on explosives to defeat it caused the laughter to bubble up.

“’Course I have, what else am I going to do with my free time?” 

Sam turned around and gave the brit a grin, “how’d you do it?”

Deckard stretched out a little more, “put explosives in its mouth.”

Sam grimaced and stuck her tongue out, “that is so gross.” 

“Half the fun sweetheart.”

“I bet you could fight a shark, dad.” Sam turned back to the tv, her feet still swinging in happiness.

“Yeah I bet he could.” Deckard began, looking back at Luke with a cheeky grin, “though he’d probably just toss it about and wrestle it some.”

Luke cocked his head, dug his thumbs in the sensitive arch of the Brits foot, “speaking from experience there boy?”

“Sure am, and as you can see-“ Deckard held is hands out and gestured to himself, “-that doesn’t always work, she-hulk.”

“We could always go another round; you name the time and day.”

“Letting me name the date, aye? How sweet of you.” Deckard smiled and placed his beer on the side table before stretching his arms out and folding them behind his head. “While I might agree you could keep up with me, I think I prefer you as a masseuse.”

Luke rolled his eyes but continued to massage the brit’s foot. Thinking of plenty of biting replies, but needed to pull it right back for Sams ears Luke began to speak but was cut off by his daughter.

“Ugh, could you please just stop, and watch the whales, jeez!”

“Sorry, poppet, I’ll try to keep your dad quiet.” 

Luke silently replied by raising a brow and digging his fingers in-between the man’s toes.  
Deckard hissed in annoyance and yanked the tortured foot away only to replace it with his other. 

*

The rest of the night had gone by easy enough, they finished their documentary in relative silence, Luke enjoying giving Deckard a massage almost as much as the man himself.  
Sam had gone to bed, surprising the Brit with a tight hug before giving one to her dad.  
Luke made sure he didn’t linger as he bid goodnight to Deckard. He met him outside the bathroom, gave him a friendly slap on the shoulder, and that was that. He didn’t want to see how the smaller man prepared for bed, what his nightly routine was or how he dressed for bed. He was already sinking in too deep, feeling like Deckard could slip right into their lives and home and stay forever. It was never that simple of course, but late at night, lying in his empty king size bed and feeling content and sleepy he couldn’t help but fantasize of a domestic life with Deckard.

*

“Deck! Wake up, we’re getting pancakes!” Sam knocked on the guest room.

“Sam!” Luke hissed from the end of the hall, “let him sleep.”

Sam huffed and crossed her arms, “I already have, plus it’s Saturday.”

“And what’s so good about Saturday?” Deckard asked, opening the door and leaning against the frame in a pair of navy silk pyjamas. 

“Good morning, Mr. Fancy. We’re getting pancakes so get dressed.” Sam turned and walked past her dad into the lounge. 

Deckard raised a sleepy brow and watched the big man fill up the hallway, “Don’t know where she gets that from.”

“Don’t feel like you have to come.” Luke stated, his eyes roaming over the mans relaxed posture.

“Don’t feel like I have a choice actually.”

“It wasn’t a request!” Sam called from the lounge, causing both men to chuckle. 

“Yeah, that sounds a lot like you. Be ready in a tick.” Deckward winked and closed the door.

While Luke should have been embarrassed or at least annoyed at Sam’s copy-cat demanding behaviour his brain wasn’t able to process anything for a while other than silk pyjamas and how cosy Deckard looked after waking up.  
Last night when he thought of seeing the Brit in the morning, he imagined him to jack-knife out of bed and race through the morning routines teeth clenched. Though to be fair, besides their short stay in Samoa, he had only known the man under pressure.  
This gentle looking side of Deckard was far more dangerous to Luke’s sanity than the fierce fighter and loyal brother that had proven to awaken his libido. 

*

Arriving at their favourite breakfast diner had gone about as well as Luke had expected. He knew the women there would make a fuss and jump to conclusions about Shaw. But it was easy to put up with, when it came to Sam’s happiness, he would put up with anything.  
Dareleen, a Loakota woman and the head waitress who had thick black hair pulled back into two braids, had often mentioned to Luke to bring a cute boy or girl to breakfast sometime. She never said this in front of Sam however, knowing it would be inappropriate to do so while his daughter was listening. They both knew Sam was his whole world, and neither wanted to make her feel like she wasn’t enough.  
So it was this in mind, that Darleen only raised a brow and gave him a satisfied grin before showing them to a table. 

As all three sat down, Sam pulling Deckard to sit beside her, Dareleen placed her hands in her apron pocket and spoke. “What will it be Miss?” 

“Blue berry pancakes for me Darleen.”

“Ice cream on the side, honey?” 

“Yes please.” Sam folded her hands on the table and grinned at the waitress. 

“The usual for me.” Luke smiled, adding a wink for good measure. 

“And your friend here?” 

Deckard was fiddling with a menu and looking back at the specials board before he cleared his throat. “I ah, English muffin and a pot of tea, please.”

“Well now.” Darleen grinned, looking between Luke and Sam. “You said your dad was busy with work honey, but here he is with a handsome friend from England.” 

“We’re work colleagues Darleen.” 

“That right Sam?”

“Yeah, boring stuff. Though we all went to Samoa! And I met my Grandma.”

Darleen gave Sam a heartfelt smile and ran a hand through her hair, “while that doesn’t sound like work to me, I’m glad you had a good time love, you’ll have to tell me all about it after school some time. Now sir-“ Darleen focused her attention back on Deckard. “-what kind of tea did you want?”

“English breakfast, if you have it, with a dash of milk.”

“Hot tea?”

Luke could see how the minor differences between the cultures clashed for Deckard in that moment and he couldn’t hold back his smile.

“Yes, hot tea. In a tea pot.” Deckard stated, unsure how much information she needed to fulfill a simple order.

Darleen shook her head and smiled, “see what I can do for you, sweety.”

As Darleen walked away, Luke leaned forward “can’t promise it’ll be any good, I don’t think they even have tea on the menu.”

Deckard scrunched his face up in displeasure, “forgot what it’s like to dine in America, remind me to order some tea from Hattie after this.” 

“Will you be staying with us for a while Deck?” Sam asked, swinging her feet underneath the table.

“Until you tell me to leave, or your dad throws me out a window.”

Same grinned and patted Deckard’s hands, “he wouldn’t do that. To messy, he’d throw you out the door.”

Deckard grinned and leaned over to whisper conspiratorially, “wouldn’t be the first time he threw me through some glass.”

“Really!?”

Deckard paused, only now gauging how much information Luke shared with his daughter. He probably hadn’t even told the girl he was the one to blast him from a building. Unused to censoring himself Deckard could only shrug his shoulders, “Well, let’s just say I’m sure he’d like to some of the time.”  
Luke reached across the table and roughed up Sam’s hair, “don’t worry sweety, none of the house windows.”

“Yeah sure dad, you like him too much to do that.” Sam scrunched up her nose and fixed her hair.

Luke let out a rough awkward laugh and Deckard shot him a look.

Soon their orders came through; protein milk shake for Luke, orange juice for Sam and a pot of English breakfast tea for Deckard, complete with a small pitcher of milk. It was quickly followed by their breakfast; a small stack of blueberry pancakes for Sam, a giant stack for Luke and an English muffin with eggs and bacon for Deckard.

“Here’s your English muffin, sweety, hope it reminds you of home.” Darleen placed the dish in front of the Brit with a smile. 

“Well considering the pub I used to order from burnt the eggs, I sure hope it doesn’t.” He shared a smile with Sam before giving Darleen a wink. 

“Oh I like this one, keep bringing him around.” Darleen slapped Luke on the back and walked off.

Deckard took a sip of his tea and began to cut up his breakfast. “Now, before I shared a meal with you in Samoa, I’d say that stack of carbs was just a little too big even for you.”

“He sometimes goes back for seconds.” Sam piped up, grinning at her dad when he shot her a mock unimpressed frown. 

“I believe it poppet.”

Luke swallowed a mouthful of pancakes before speaking, “how’s you English muffin, muffin?”

Dropping his fork on his plate and sitting back in his seat dramatically, Deckard sighed, “You are not using that.”

Luke leant toward on the table and grinned back, “English muffin, what do you think Sam, suit him?”

Sam contemplated the question for a moment before shaking her head with a smile, “Sure, but it’s your funeral.”

“You know Luke, I like your kid, I think I might just keep her.”

*

Spending vacation time with Deckard was easy, too easy. He had thought that perhaps they’d have gotten into a physical fight by now. But their bickering had never progressed beyond teasing, there was never any anger or even aggression behind it. He supposed it may have been because of the huge fight they had come out of. It was easy to spend time at home with Deckard while Sam was at school. The Brit helped around the house, and with the added hands Luke was able to fix the back porch, paint the hallway, and get all manner of restoration jobs done around the house. The brit was incredibly handy with a hammer or drop saw.  
After their first breakfast Deckard had left the Hobbs to do some errands. Irrationally Luke was concerned that the Brit would run into trouble. He was tense on the way home, expecting a call from Mr. Nobody or something on the news about utter chaos in the city. However, it was only a few hours later that Deckard pulled up to the house in a new black McLaren, toting several shopping bags.  
Sam squealed from the couch and rushed to meet him in the drive way. Luke watched from the window as Deckard handed her a bag and followed her to the door, chatting away as he held onto several of his own.

“Did a bit of shopping I see.” 

Deckard looked back at the car and shrugged, “yeah, just the necessities.”

The necessities, besides the car, had been a series of beautiful form fitting clothes and shoes. He had even bought Sam the complete collection of David Attenborough documentaries.  
One of these items of clothing was a pair of black running shorts. Every morning after breakfast and after Sam had left for school, both men would go for a run. Deckard was much faster than Luke, always a few metres ahead and goading him. Luke honestly didn’t mind falling behind, his competitive side should have flared up, but instead to the shame of his competitive side he was too busy watching the shift and bounce of Deckard’s arse in those form fitting running shorts.  
Even if he began to tire, he would gladly run throughout the neighbourhood all day if he got to watch those pale thighs and calves flex. The brits arse was muscled, but with each step – which Luke watched with a fixed stare, he could see the Brit still had a plush covering of fat, causing his butt to bounce each time his sneakers hit the pavement.  
He tried to be ashamed of perving so heavily on his friend, but it was becoming really hard to do, when even the sight of his shoulders under a tight top got him going. 

Working out with the man in the gym had a different impact. His home gym was his domain, and as such Luke couldn’t help but show off in there. Honestly, he wasn’t sure if he was imagining Deckard’s lingering stares on his biceps and chest, but if the Brit was checking him out he wasn’t about to pass up an opportunity to show off a little. Those moments where they were training together, Deckard doing crunches on the floor or any form of exercise where his focused was fixed in one spot, Luke made sure to lift heavier weights, or pull heavier chain, anything that made him sweat and flex in front of the Brit. He was being a show pony, and he was acting like a peacock of a teenage boy again. But dammit, no body had spiked his interest, or caused his fire to burn this hot since he was a teenage boy filled to the brim with testosterone. He was a fully grown adult man, a father too. It should have been easy enough to invite the Brit out to dinner, wine and dine him. Surely Deckard deserved that. But uncertainty held him back. He wanted to gauge the other man’s interests more before he put himself out there. If Deckard walked away now, Luke felt like he wouldn’t just be rejecting him, but Sam as well. If something worked out between them, something more than a quick fuck, Luke could seriously imagine having Deckard as a permanent fixture in his and his daughter’s life. He hadn’t thought that about anybody before.

*

It was a Friday night, 14 days since Deckard began staying with the Hobbs. Sam was staying at a friend’s house and it was to be the first night they had been alone together. Deckard seemed to be his usual calm and relaxed self since Sam left, that Luke figured only he was abundantly aware of her absence. Or perhaps it was because two friends hanging out at night, with no kid in the middle, meant very little change. Deckard had retired to his room after dinner, and Luke pulled a book off his bookshelf to read quietly in the lounge. He had changed into sweat pants and a comfortable tee, though Deckard would probably say it was still too tight. But who would honestly want to hide all that?  
A couple of chapters in and Luke saw Deckard walk into the lounge wearing those attractive, yet ridiculous pyjamas.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Mr. Fancy himself. Come to bless me with his presence.”

“These are pyjamas fat boy, at least I don’t go to bed looking like I’m homeless.” Deckard sat on the other side of the couch and flipped through a few books placed on the coffee table.  
Luke dog-eared his book and tossed it on the table. He reached across and pinched Deckard’s bicep, gripping the silky material between his fingers.

“What is this? Silk?”

“Oi, don’t touch, you damn gorilla.”  
Deckard slapped Luke’s hand away before flopping back into the couch and swinging his feet up into Luke’s lap.

“This again?” Luke complained, even as he began the massage.

“Look, if you didn’t want to do it, then you shouldn’t have been so damn good at it the first time. Now get to work you over sized baby.” Deckard stretched out. Lying back into the couch he covered his eyes with one arm, while letting the other drop over the couch to the floor.  
These, almost nightly massage sessions made the Brit relax so quickly and with such trust that Luke couldn’t begrudge himself or the other man the opportunity. 

“Let me at least get lotion this time.” Luke stated, tossing off the man’s legs and standing up to fetch the baby lotion.

“Gonna oil me up, sweet heart?” Deckard muttered from the couch, not having moved an inch.  
Luke came back with the bottle, sat down on the couch and immediately the Brits legs where in his lap. “Now before we get started I can either give your nasty feet another massage or do you want a back massage?”

Deckard flipped the arm off his eyes and raised a brow. “You offering me a back massage? Thinking I’m gonna turn it down, fuck me Luke, you might be a god damn dunce most of the time, but your hands should be in a fucking museum.” Deckard quickly sat up and started unbuttoning his shirt. 

Luke watched the pale man quickly pull each button free, and with each inch of skin revealed, he saw how he had well and truly fucked himself. 

“Where do you want me?” 

Luke took a moment to answer the question, the only answers floating around his head all related to having the Brit ass up and underneath him. He still hadn’t come up with an answer as the other man folded up his shirt and placed it on the side table. 

He had maybe seen the Brit shirtless once, and then only glimpses while he was getting changed on Samoa. So the effect of having Deckard Shaw standing in his living room, not about to kick the shit out of him, and willingly strip out of his fancy pyjama shirt caused Luke stumble for a reply as his eyes roamed over the muscled back and thick waist. Fuck he could probably completely wrap his hands about the man’s waist. 

“Well?”

“The couch.” Luke blurted, occupying himself by tossing off the cushions. 

“Be a bit forward of you to suggest the bed, now wouldn’t it.” Deckard turned towards Luke, and dammit he got another distracting look at he brit’s chest. Thick with tight lean muscles, with a beautiful covering of chest hair. He had small but perky brown nipples, and his pecs, well Luke had never been a boob man, but even he would love to get a handful of those as he fucked him from behind.  
Before Luke knew it, Deckard was arranging himself on the couch, face down. He wasn’t sure if the other man had caught him staring or just chose to ignore it. Either way Luke cleared his throat and tried to psyche himself up to give his friend a completely platonic massage. What the fuck was wrong with him for suggesting this?

Because of his big build the couch was wide enough to accommodate a reclining grown man, with space on either side for his arms. Deckard got comfy, resting his arms underneath his head, “hop to it sunshine.”

“So bossy.” Luke grumbled, trying to keep his eyes off the brit’s silk clad ass, trying not to notice how the delicate material had settled into the crack of the man’s cheeks. Why did he have to wear silk? Bastard.

Luke took a seat on the end of the couch. It may have been a big couch, but he was still a big man and Deckard had sprawled out and taken up most of the room.  
Luke decided to start with familiar territory and so lifted Deckard’s calves. Resting one foot on the floor, he pulled Deckard’s legs to rest in the spread of his thighs, his other leg thrown over the ass of the brit, effectively pinning him and hiding the sight of his arse. One knee was close to touching his crotch, but Luke wiggled back into the arm of the couch and settled in for the self-inflicted torture. 

Grabbing the oil off the side table, Luke poured it carefully into his hand before wedging the bottle between the cushion and the back of the couch. Grabbing Deckard’s foot he began the familiar motions of running his thumbs into the mans arch. But this time his fingers were slick, making the pressure easier, the change in sensation caused the Brit to bite off a groan.

Luke got lost in the process, he’d never admit it to the smaller man, though perhaps it was already obvious, but it was pretty meditative giving massages. His only ‘client’ had been Sam, but those had been gentle shoulder and feet rubs, they did not compare in anyway to how his touch turned greedy as he dragged an oiled hand up the Achilles tendon to smooth over a hairy calf hidden under the cuff of silk pyjamas. 

“Don’t get oil on my jammies, gorilla man.” Deckard mumbled; his face turned to the side with his eyes closed.

Luke rolled his eyes and dropped one calf to pick up the other. Pulling the man a little closer by the leg, he let Deckard’s massaged foot roll off the couch and rest on the floor. The accidental effect had the mans thighs spread out, those damn silk pyjamas now pulling across his arse cheeks.  
Luke looked to the ceiling and focused on oiling up the brit’s foot.  
As he came to the end of the process, he assessed the situation. How was he going to give Deckard a back massage on the couch without either pulling the mans thighs open and settling between them – effectively having that silken clad ass up against his dick, or straddling the Brit by settling his knees on either side of his thighs, where he’d probably end up sitting on the mans ass. Again, his dick against that delectable ass that Deckard always hid in black slacks. Or he could ask the Brit to get on the floor, but he hadn’t actually vacuumed in a few days, so maybe not. Yeah, he needed a decent third option. 

“What’s the hold up there sunshine?” Deckard slurred.

“Unless you want to move this to a bed then –“

“I aint that easy Luke.” Deckard interrupted, rolling over with a frown.

Luke huffed out a laugh, “I mean the massage, I don’t have enough room to do your back. Bring your skinny ass over here and sit in front of me.”  
Deckard shuffled over, and Luke sat back against the couch and spread his thighs, Deckard settled between them, a small space between them. Ok, the third option wasn’t that much better either.

Luke oiled his hands up again and quickly settled them on the man’s shoulders. He began a simple rub down, assessing how tight each group of muscles were before applying a bit of pressure. Unable to help himself Luke began to verbally poke the brit. “You know you say you’re not easy, but you’re sitting here with your top off, awfully keen to get oiled up.”

Deckard rolled his shoulders with a sigh, “don’t mean I’ll put out. Aint you ever heard of a little foreplay Hobbs? Or is it always fast and hard with you?”

Luke ran his oiled hands up the man’s tight shoulder to gently grip his neck before sliding down his back with increasing pressure. “Oh you’re wrong there boy, I like to get them desperate for it, maybe ease the skittish ones with a massage, and before they know it their gagging for it, begging for some rough treatment.”

Deckard laughed and lent forward, allowing Luke to easier access to his lower back. “Fuck you’re a piece of work, aren’t you? Glad Hattie gave up on you.”

Luke hmmed to himself and dug his thumbs into the dimples above Deckard’s arse cheeks, before spreading his fingers out, seeing just how far his grip would go. 

“Either way, I still got a topless Shaw sitting happy in my lap, now don’t I?”

“Only you could be so lucky.”

Luke increased the pressure about the mans waist for a moment, “You have no fucking idea,” He breathed out in a sigh. 

“Luke-“ Deckard began, curling a hand around Luke’s. 

“Shh princess, tell me I’m not reading this wrong?” Luke dragged his hands up the brit’s torso, his fingers spread in greedy exploration.  
Deckard spread out his thighs and leant back into the bigger man, “You can be fucking thick sometimes sunshine, but you aint’ reading this wrong, I’ve been dropping hints all week.”

Luke pressed his lips to the brits neck. He wound his arms around the smaller man, pulling him flush against him while running his fingers through that covering of chest hair and finding his hardening nipples. 

“So let me get his straight Deck, you want to climb this big, brown, well endowed, tattooed, mountain of a man?”

“Fucking hell, fuck it I’m out.” Deckard growled out pulling at Luke’s arms.

Luke laughed and held him tighter. “Ok ok, no teasing Princess, at least not that kind.”

“What you got in mind?”

“You follow me to my room and you’ll find out.”

“I said I aint easy.” Deckard grinned, trying to turn around but Luke kept him pinned.

“You know this isn’t the first time we’ve done this dance Deck, we’ve been on foreplay since we met. You know I’ll make it worth your while.” Luke skimmed his lips over the tendons on the Brits neck, applying a little pressure with his teeth.

Deckard turned in his grasp and Luke was quick to cradle the mans neck and pull him in for a kiss. The first thing Luke noticed was how warm Deckard’s mouth was, followed by the plush give of his lips and the subtle scratch of stubble. Deckard kissed like it was a tug of war; leaning in and taking control before settling back and easing the assault before returning to plunder once more. The easy give and take had Luke’s head reeling and his dick hardening.  
He pulled him in closer, wrapping an arm about his waist and gripping his neck a little tighter. 

Deckards hands shot out to grab at his shoulder and fist at his shirt. Biting into Lukes bottom lip Deckard pulled away and spoke. “Well get to it, Hercules, take me to bed.”

*


	2. Chapter 2

Luke had successfully fireman carried Deckard from the lounge to his bedroom where he gleefully tossed him onto the bed. The Brit quickly righted himself with a frown, “If you think you’ll be able to man-handle me in bed-“

“Oh I plan to, Princess.”

Deckard blushed and quickly knelt up on the bed. Pulling Luke closer by the hem of his tight shirt, he sat back, spread his thighs, and yanked the bigger man up against him.   
  
“Now take this ridiculous thing off.”

Luke grinned and yanked his top off, “Anything for you.”

Deckard smirked and crawled backwards, “now that’s what I like to hear.”

Luke toyed with the drawstring of his track pants, smirking back at the Brit and enjoying the sight of the pale man spread out on his bed. As he moved closer, Deckard thrust out a leg and pressed a foot against his sternum.

“Do you know when you get in a huff and you strut, your tits bounce?”

Luke raised a brow and gripped his ankle.   
Below him Deckard grinned and slapped his other foot against Luke’s tattooed pec.

“I’m not much of a tits man, but the first time I kicked your ass I noticed. Fuck that stupid top you wore was so tight.”

“Is that why you were so sloppy that night? Getting an eyeful were you?” Luke grabbed the other ankle and opened up Deckard’s thighs, pulling him back towards the end of the bed he wrapped those silk clad thighs about hips. “How very ungentlemanly of you Deck.”

Dropping those thighs, Luke spread his hands about against the bed, caging Deckard in as he lowered his body.

“Fuck your big.” Deckard groaned, leaning up to close the distance and kissing him.

Luke opened up his mouth, relishing in how much of a filthy kisser Deckard was. He let the other man control the pace, enjoying the feeling of giving in for a moment.

Getting more comfortable, he rolled his crotch into Decks, causing them to both groan and press closer.

Luke licked into Decks mouth, moaning into the kiss as he ran a hand down the mans torso. He got a handful of the mans pec before giving his nipples a squeeze. With great reluctance and a few returning kisses, he pulled away from Deckard’s sinful mouth to kiss and bite his way down his throat to his pecs. He pushed an arm underneath Deckard’s lower back, forcing him to arch into him and press his chest into his face. He bit into one pec, taking the muscle between his teeth and giving it a tug. Deckard swore but made no move to push him off. Luke ran a tongue over his nipple, getting it wet and hard before repeating the rough treatment with the other pec.

Deckard’s hands dug into his shoulders, smoothing down to spread out over his bicep. Luke could tell the man was getting in a good feel and seeing how far he could wrap his fingers about the muscle.

His own hand spread out from Deckard’s lower back to slip past the waist band of his pyjamas and grab a handful of ass cheek.

“Oh fuck Deck.” Luke rutted his crotch up against the smaller man, loving the feel of that smooth skin and how nicely one arse cheek fit into the palm of his hand. Spreading his fingers out he dipped them between his crack and brushed over his hole.

Deckard flinched, his head turning to the side as he bit off a curse.

“Fuck, I need to eat you out.” Luke groaned. He pulled away from the Brit to grip him by the waist and flip him onto his belly.

“Luke, the fuck!” Deckard growled.

Luke yanked his pyjamas off and paused to take in the sight of Deckard Shaw completely naked underneath him. Arse up and on his bed. Dreams did come true.

He smoothed his hands up from Deckard’s thighs to grip each arse cheek and _spread_.

“Is this ok?” he asked breathlessly, not able to take his eyes off the sight of Deckard’s tightly wrinkled hole.

“Yeah, just-“ Deckard grumbled, snatching a pillow and shoving it under his hips, “-give a man some warning.”

“Yeah fuck, this is all the warning I give you before I ruin you for any other man.”

“Big talk coming from the- Ah! _Ah fuck_!”

Luke had leant down and swiped his tongue up from the brits pretty set of balls to his hole. Not giving the other man a moment to prepare for the next assault, Luke pressed his tongue flat against his hole and got it dripping wet. Pressing his face into his ass Luke spread those cheeks, squeezing his arse with each greedy lick of his tongue. Underneath him Deckard trembled and swore, his face hidden in the bedding as his shoulders bunched and his thighs spread, lifting his arse up against Luke’s eager tongue.

Luke pressed his thumb against the brits clenching hole. He circled it, slowly increasing the pressure until it sunk in. He repeated the action, before pulling it out again.

“Oh fuck, Luke you son of a bitch.” Deckard whined.

Grinning to himself Luke pressed his tongue back against his winking hole. Moving his thumb, he spread those pale cheeks and gently bit into the furled skin of his rim.

Deckard gave out a hoarse shriek, his thighs trembling and his arse pressing insistently against Luke’s face.

Enjoying himself immensely, Luke closed his eyes and licked into the Brits opening. Keeping one hand to spread Deckard’s arse cheek open, the moved his other hand to slip one thick finger into the mans hole.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Deckard groaned, “slick me up you fucker!”

Luke kept one hand on Deckard’s arse cheek, pressing him into the bedding as if he’d escape if he took his hands off him. He reached across the bed to the bedside draw and yanked it open. He fumbled in there for only a moment before pulling out a bottle of lube and a condom.

Letting the condom fall into bed, he hastily uncapped the lube one handed and poured it over and down Deckard’s arse crack. Snapping it closed again, he swiped his fingers through the mess and pressed two fingers against the brits now utterly wet shiny hole. Both fingers eased in, the skin of Deckard’s rim tight as it swallowed up both thick fingers.

Underneath him Deckard wriggled and leant up onto his elbows. His arse now higher and his thighs spread. His head was bowed, small gasps and tight groans were heard as Luke eased his fingers in and out. He watched with a kind of lust fuelled hypnosis as his thick brown fingers were swallowed up into the tight hot clutch, before he’d gently pull them back. Deckard’s stretched pink rim following and gripping is fingers.

He crooked his fingers on a withdraw, pulling the rim tight before pressing a third finger against the hole and easing it in.   
“this ok?”

Deckard huffed out a short laugh, “if it weren’t ok, you’d find yourself flat on the floor with a broken face.”

Luke pressed three fingers in and gave the brit a slap on the arse cheek. “wanker.”

He had only ever bought organic lube, and as such had no problems easing his fingers apart and pressing his tongue up against the winking pink opening.

“Ah ah ah!” Deckard shook, his voice breaking off into a pathetic moan.

Luke kept up the assault; pressing his tongue in deeper and wriggling his fingers about, trying to get an idea of where the mans prostate was. But at this rate, with how much Deckard obviously loved getting his arse played with, wrecking his prostate might just be the end of him.

Letting go of one arse cheek, Luke ran his fingers through the mess of lube and saliva and gripped the brits balls. Giving them a firm squeeze and tug, Luke reached underneath and pulled his dick to lay flush against the wet pillow. It was definitely an odd angle to see Deckard’s dick for the first time, but Luke knew he’d get a better view soon enough. True enough it was a good size, a nice size for his fist that he wrapped around it. He simply held onto Deckard’s dick, his palm getting wet and slippery with sweat and pre-cum. But he didn’t want the brit to cum just yet, he wanted to be in charge of when the smaller man came.

“Luke, fuck, you’re killing me.” Deckard moaned, his hands sliding out across the bedding in frustration.

Luke gave the mans cock a sloppy lick before wrapping it up in his fist again and getting back to his feast.

His chin was covered in lube and saliva, his fingers began to ache where Deckards inner walls where squeezing them, pulling them in and tightening. His jaw began to ache as well as he stretched his tongue out and pressed it up against the inside, the skin there so sensitive that it caused Deckard to cry out repeatedly.   
“Reckon you could cum just from this?” Luke asked, the smirk evident in his tone.

“Yes, you bloody twat, you happy!?” Deckard looked over his shoulder, his face was blotchy red, lips red and bitten, “now get up here so I can ride your cock, you giant bastard.”

Luke grinned back at him and pulled his fingers free of Deckard’s squeezing ass.

Within seconds Luke found himself flipped back on his back with a growling Deckard on top of him pulling his pants down. The mans wet dick bobbed with each breath, and fuck wasn’t that a pretty sight. Thinking ahead, even as he couldn’t take his eyes off Deckard’s hairy chest, he grabbed at the condom wrapper on the bed.

Lifting his hips up he helped pull his pants down. His cock pulling free and slapping up to rest against his hip. It twitched with each breath, the veins engorged with blood and sensitive to the cool air.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” Deckard swore with a complete straight face.

“Excuse me?” Luke asked, looking back down at his dick before noticing how Deckards brows where subtly turning into a frown.  
  
“Oh I see-“ Luke grinned, he cradled his dick in his hand and gave it a firm stroke, the foreskin pulling back from the head on the down stroke, “-so every time I bragged about packing some serious artillery down there, you didn’t believe me.” His dick was uncut, thick with big veins and pushing 9.5 inches. His balls were weighty and hot to the touch.

“Don’t call your cock artillery, and no of course I thought you were fucking with me.” Deckard pressed a hand against Lukes chest, “and don’t you make that a fucking pun.”

“Don’t need to princess, you just did.” Luke chuckled.

Deckard punched him in the shoulder before sitting on his thighs and slapping his hand away from his cock. “Everything about you is oversized.”

Luke grinned and put his hands behind his head, enjoying the view of an irritated but horny Deckard pulling at the foreskin of his dick.

“Got that right Princess.”

Deckard blushed but continued to frown. He shuffled on top, spreading his thighs wider and smoothing a hand over Lukes wide chest.

“Hand me the slick, you bloody idiot.” Deckard grumbled, unable to take his eye off Luke’s thick cock.

“How about you use your mouth pretty boy?” Luke smirked.

Deckard rolled his eyes and snatched up the lube, “I aint’ got the patience for that tonight, but maybe if you’re a good boy I’ll treat you another time.”

“Fuck yes.” Luke groaned, spreading his thighs a little wider. He passed the condom to the Brit and laid back down, enjoying the view. 

Deckard quickly ripped open the wrapper and slid the latex over that mouth-watering cock. Pouring a generous amount of lube over the thick length, he positioned himself above Luke’s dick.

“You ever ridden cock before, boy?”

“Course I have-“ Deckard huffed, lining up Luke’s slicked cock with his hole, “-just never rode such a big bull before.”

Keeping the fat head pressed against his opening, Deckard bore down and sunk down against Luke’s thighs.

“Oh fuck, that’s it, princess, c’mon, open up for me.”

Under the slicked pressure Luke’s cock head pressed in, easing the way as each thick inch was swallowed up by Deckard’s tight pink hole.

Above him Deckard’s thighs shook, his cute dick and ball sack twitched and tightened, his torso became slick with sweat, and his chin was dipped low. His wet mouth hung open as little breaths and whimpers were gasped out. His brows creased and his eyes shut. Deckard gently rolled his hips, and Luke lay captivated as he watched the mans tight abdominal muscles clench and release with each roll. And with each slow shift, he felt his dick being eased deeper, and deeper into Deckard’s body.

Luke tossed his head back against the pillows and tightened his hold on those milky white muscular thighs. Fuck he needed to last, he needed to make this so good for the Brit he kept coming back for more. Before this he was so sure of his abilities to make the man cum and scream his name. Imagined holding the brit down and making him take it, imagined Deckard begging to cum as Luke wrapped a merciless fist around his pretty dick.  
But he did not imagine hard enough at just how fucking hot Deckard would look riding his cock.

“You right there Hercules? Or did I break you already.” Deckard teased.

Luke opened his eyes, not realising his closed them. Deckard sat upon him with a cheeky grin, but Luke could still feel the tremor through his thighs as he was still easing himself down, taking inch by inch before rising up to relax his muscles before doing it again.

“Oh boy, do not talk about breaking right now. Because the only thing that’ll break will be your arse.”

“Such sweet talk from the man I’m currently bestowing the glory, that is my arse, so be a dear and don’t threaten it.”

Luke slapped an arse cheek in reply, and hissed as Deckard instinctively clenched around his dick.

“Deck, I need you to sit that fine ass completely down on my dick right now.”

Deckard rolled his shoulders and settled his hands down further, resting them on Lukes pecs. “Patience sweet cheeks, aint’ you ever heard of warm up stretches?”

Luke opened his mouth to reply, but all that came out was a horse grunt as Deckard dropped his weight and swallowed up the last few inches. Luke tried to distinguish the different sensations, but every single touch, from the brits strong thighs settled against his hips, the steady heat and throb of the mans balls resting against his skin and the hot clutch of Deckard’s inner walls massaging his cock translated into pure agonizing euphoria.

Sliding his wide hands up the mans thighs he gripped the Brits waist and waited for permission to move. “Deck” Luke groaned, rubbing his fingers into the dimples above his arse cheeks.   
Deckard smirked down at him.

“Gonna start begging Luke?”

Luke rolled his head into his pillow and stretched out his legs, trying to ease some of the tension that began to build up. “Watch that pretty mouth of yours Deckard, by the end of the night I’ll have you begging for it.”

Deckard slapped a hand against his pec before lifting himself up a few inches and rolling his hips, just easing Lukes cock out a few inches before easing it back in.   
“Fuck, yeah you might be right, but not before I get you to beg first.”

He began a slow roll, his fingers digging into Luke’s skin with each down stroke.

Luke held himself back, letting the Brit set the pace, but would still raise his hips up to meet Deckard’s arse.

Deckard closed his eyes and got lost in the sensation. Lukes cock was fucking perfect. Thick and uncut, with a perfect length that made him really feel the sting. He raised his ass higher and bit his lip as he felt Luke’s fat cock head drag against his inner walls. Opening his eyes, he stared back down at Luke, taking delight in how tense the big man was. He let himself drop down quickly, his ass eating up Luke’s cock, before squeezing and pulling off again.

“Fuck Deck, ‘cmon.” Luke’s sweaty hands ran up and down his waist, digging into muscle and sliding against pale skin.

“Beg me.” Deckard sighed, eyes locked onto Luke’s.

Luke clenched his teeth and dug his fingers in.

Deckard only raised a brow before dropping his weight on Lukes lap, and slowly rolling his hips. He could easily sit like this for hours. Feeling the stretch on his rim, the hot press of the Lukes cock shoved up tight inside. Making no move to ease up, he simply closed his eyes and gently rolled back and forth, delighting in the pained groans from below and the bossy hands trying hard not to pick him up.   
  
“Please Deck, you little bitch.”

Deckard smirked and raised himself up before dropping back down, the cock sliding back into him with a squelch. “That wasn’t so hard was it? Maybe next time without the expletives.”

Luke groaned and thrust his hips up to meet Deckard, the steady _slap slap slap_ the only noise for a moment before he released a tight breath and spoke, “Should have said princess, know you like that one.”

Deckard made no reply, but his deep blush gave away just much he enjoyed being called that pet name.

Luke trailed one hand down from his waist to smooth through Deckard’s trimmed curls. “Don’t touch my cock.” Deckard warned, his hand gripping Luke’s and pulling it away, “don’t want to come yet.”

Luke settled for sliding his wide hand up the brits torso to pinch and tug at a nipple. His pace still slow and steady, letting the pale man have control.

They kept a languid pace until Deckard huffed, “What did I tell you, all those muscles are all show and no go, put your back into it.”

“Is that a fucking challenge?” Luke bit out, his muscles so tense from holding back.  
  
“Oh, you bet it is sunshine.” Deckard smirked. He raised his ass into an arch, Lukes cock head held tight in the mans rim, before he dropped back down, feeling each ridge press past his sensitive rim. Deckard groaned and lolled his head back, “but here’s the kicker-“ he scratched down Lukes tattooed pec, “I stay on top. Got it?”

Luke snapped his hips up, bouncing the Brit for a moment, his hands digging into pale hips. “Anything for you princess.”

Luke brought his knees up to rest behind Deckard’s back, his feet firmly set against the bed. The brit rested a hand on one knee and pulled himself up several inches before rolling his hips back down.   
  
“Fuck, that’s the magic word.” Deckard sighed.

Luke chuckled and raised Deckard up before dropping him, again, again and again.

Deckard bit his lip and frowned, eyes clenched and his chin dipped to his collar bone. A blush high on his cheeks as Luke raised his body up before yanking him back down, that thick cock stretching him open with each thrust.   
“oh, _fuck fuck fuck!I_ ” Deckard bit out, his breaths coming out in pants.

“You gonna be a good boy and beg for it?” Luke asked, slapping a palm against Deckard’s bouncing ass.

Luke loved the contrast of their skin tones. His hands were so much darker and wider, and even with Deckard having such a fit body, with no ounce of femineity to him, he looked so much more delicate sitting on his lap, his slicked ass taking all 9.5 inches of his cock.

Deckard eased forward, his hands splayed across Lukes wide chest, knowing the man could easily take his weight. Arching his back he tried to find the right angle for Lukes dick to reach his prostate, no easy feat for most men.

It took some very subtle shifts, which Luke watched with keen fascination, but soon Deckard’s face scrunched up and his body went rigid. “Jesus fuck, right there, fuck right there you bastard.”

Luke yanked Deckard down against him. Disrupting his pleasure and pulling him chest to chest, his hips following the brits shifting ass, never slowing down on his steady deep thrusts.

“Prick.” Deckard growled, but Luke silenced him with a filthy kiss and wrapping one thick arm about the mans waist, pinning him down.

Deckards thighs were spread wide in his position, and he could just feel the sensation of his too tight rim being stretched further as Luke grabbed an arse cheek and pulled. That cock was still drilling into him, the sound of the mans balls slapping against him and the squelch of cum and slick loud in the room.

It was good, ridiculously good and fantastic actually, but the change in position meant that cock was no longer striking his prostate.   
“Now beg for it Deck, and I’ll make sure to hit it every time.” Luke growled, biting the brits ear for good measure.

Deckard couldn’t help but tremble. His hands were fixed holding onto the bedding and curled around Lukes shoulder, trying to hold on as the man repeatedly fucked into him. His legs tense and useless with the onslaught. Biting into Luke’s shoulder he tried to raise himself up but Luke only retaliated by rubbing fingers against his wet stretched rim.   
“ _fuck! Ah, ah, ah!_ Please you giant fucking prick.”

Luke kissed his forehead and quickly righted Deckards position on top of him. “That’s what I like to hear Princess.” Keeping a hand on the brits lower back he arched him in position, and with a bit of help from a red-faced Deckard they were able to find the perfect position. Luke knew when he hit the brits prostate, besides the obvious high pitched groan, the mans shoulders trembled and his arms shook.

Luke bit his lip and tried not to cum at the sight. Deckard lolled his head, his eyes squeezed as if he were in pain and his wet mouth hung open, panting out breaths and letting out the cutest whines Luke had ever heard.

Taking hold of the mans hips, Luke really put his back into it. Snapping his hips forward and yanking Deckard’s ass back on his cock, he kept up a steady hard fuck that had his thighs tensing and his biceps bulging as he held the pale man in place.

Deckard slid a hand off Luke’s chest to rest on the bed for balance as he gripped his own dick. He simply tightened a fist around his dripping cock and let Luke’s harsh movements take control.

“Oh fucking dammit.” Deckard groaned, his whole body going tense for a moment as he came. His dick shooting out cum all over Luke’s abs, and wasn’t that a pretty sight. Closing his eyes Deckard tried to keep himself upright as his dick emptied and his body shook with the last tremors.

“Fucking shit Deck.” Luke groaned. He pulled the brit flush against his cock and ground into him, his hips rolling before snapping back. His thrusts became jarring as Deckard’s walls tightened almost painfully around him.

“Oh fuck me.” Deckard sighed, he steadied himself on top of Luke and slowly came down from the high. Rolling his ass back into Luke’s cock he experimented by clenching randomly.

“C’mon Hercules.”

Luke quickly sat up and wrapped a hand about Deckard’s waist. Pulling him in flush he locked lips with him and gave him a few more shallow hard thrusts before coming with a deep groan.   
“Oh fuck Deck-“ Luke sighed, pressing soft kisses against Deckard’s stubble, “fuck, you’re gonna kill me.”

Deckard smiled and pressed a gentle kiss to Luke’s lips, “If you don’t get you’re sweaty gorilla mits off me, I just might.”

Luke grinned back and eased back down against the bed. He felt so drained but content. His body limber and heavy but it felt so good, working out had nothing on having sex with Deckard Shaw. God damnit Dom would never believe him.

“You’re grinning like a fucking loon.” Deckard slapped his pec and slowly eased off his soft dick.

“You’re certainly one to talk, sitting up there like the cat who got the cream.”

Deckard grinned back; his fingers pressed against his rim as Lukes cock head slipped free. “Oh, I certainly got the cream.”

Luke rolled his eyes and slapped Deckard’s hip. “I’m never having sex with you again.”

Deckard flopped onto the bed and stretched out, “Yeah good luck with that, cause that’s the best dick I’ve sat on in a long time.”

Luke closed his eyes in bliss and gently tugged off the condom before tying it off and tossing it to the floor.

“You’re disgusting.” Deckard grumbled, fumbling with the sheets and sliding underneath.

“Says the man who’s going to bed with an arse crack full of lube.” Luke rolled over and got out of bed to pull the sheets aside and slide in next to Deckard.

“Damn straight I am, now get over here and cuddle me you idiot.”

*

Waking up in Luke’s bed had been silently, and privately been cathartic. Hattie would be proud, Owen would have been disturbed, and his mother would be a mixture of “Oh bless” and “get your shit together you're 50 years old!”.

But they weren’t going to know about it. Well he’d tell them all eventually – the sleeping with Luke part, not the strange yet so natural feeling of waking up wrapped in Luke’s ridiculous arms, like this was exactly what his life had been missing.

He had never had the pleasure of sleeping with a cuddler before. He either left the bed, kicked them out, or they weren’t the cuddling type. But Deckard was secretly a cuddler, and fuck he had hit the jackpot with Luke.

Snuggling in a little deeper into the mans embrace, Deckard rubbed his nose into the gap between Luke’s pecs and breathed him in. His own arms were wrapped around the bigger mans waist.

“Knew you’d be a cuddler.” Luke mumbled. Rubbing his large hands over his back before settling back down against his lower back.

“Don’t ruin the moment.” Deckard grumbled, shifting his legs and tangling them up further with Luke’s. His thigh pressed against Luke’s cock, it was heavy and hot with morning arousal, and Deckard was already hard and wanting. Sure he loved a cuddle, but there’d be time for that later after he got his mouth on that thick cock.

Kissing down the mans chest Deckard shuffled under the covers. Pressing an insistent hand against Lukes hip he gave him a shove and lay over him.

Luke pulled back the covers and swore. “Oh shit Deck.”

“yeah.” Deckard breathed. His hand cupped the base of Luke’s erect cock, thick black curls cushioned the sided of his palm.

Closing his eyes, he got up close and ran his tongue slowly from base to tip.

Luke’s hand reached out and rested on the back of his head, fingers massaging the back of his skull.

Pursing his lips Deckard gave the dripping head a quick kiss before gently sucking on the head, his fist easing up and down, pulling the foreskin back before letting it settle back in place.

Opening his mouth a little wider Deckard took in a few inches, letting it fill his mouth. Saliva dribbled down the length as Deckard groaned in satisfaction. Luke made no move to order him around and kept from thrusting up into the face, and fuck Deckard felt so lucky to suck such a fantastically thick cock without having a complete cunt of a man attached to it.

Bringing himself up onto his knees he eased his mouth a little lower, sucking on the head, and running his tongue about the foreskin before easing back and pulling off. He looked up at Luke as he jacked him off. His own cock hot and heavy between his legs.

“’C’mon here beautiful.” Luke sighed, coaxing Deckard back up the bed. Luke pulled him flush against his side and reached down to palm at his dick. Smoothing his hand against his skin he grabbed his thigh and pulled it across him. Deckard got the hint and leaned in to kiss him as Luke began to play with his hole. The skin was still warm to the touch and so Luke kept his touches gentle. Simply enjoying how easy the morning had started and not wanting to rush anything.

Deckard had kept a fist wrapped around his dick, and began to slowly jerk him off.

Luke licked into Deckard’s mouth, his eyes closed in delight. He kept up slowly rubbing his fingers against the brits rim, while he took Deckard’s dick into his other hand and began pumping him at the same pace.

“Oh fuck, that’s it Luke.” Deckard groaned and gripped his neck, lips sliding against his before kissing back and pulling impossibly closer.

Neither was in a rush, so caught up in the sleepy morning, both enjoying the gentle and caring touches. The contrast from last night didn’t feel odd, it just felt like another aspect of their dynamic relationship. A relationship that would probably keep evolving.

Deckard came with a low groan, his face hidden in Luke’s shoulder.

Luke came soon after, his cum adding to the complete sweaty mess, but fuck did it feel perfect. Grinning at the smaller man he locked lips with him and cuddled him close, not caring for the sticky mess between them. It was a perfect morning.

*

After a quick shower which consisted mostly of Luke getting handsy, they dressed, again Luke couldn’t keep his hands to himself, then sat down for a breakfast made by Deckard.

Luke took a seat at the kitchen island with a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. He watched with fond amusement as Deckard moved about the kitchen wearing his signature black turtle neck, complaining about the state of the kitchen and how he could never find anything. He had only lived there for about two weeks, but already he was telling Luke where he needed to keep things.

“Make me waffles, oh! With eggs, bacon and hash-browns, we’ve got everything in the fridge.” Luke ended the request with a blinding smile, but Deckard only responded with a frown and pointed at him from across the island. “You’ll get what I make you.”

“Now, where’s my favourite spatula?” Deckard bustled about the kitchen and Luke trailed his eyes over the mans beautiful form. Fuck, he had that piece of work on top of him last night. He was so content to just watch Deckard make himself at home in his kitchen, even if the brit wouldn’t stop complaining about his kitchen tools, the work space, the mess, the layout – he complained about the whole kitchen actually.

He watched the man crack eggs into a mixing bowl and began to make omelettes.

“Do you maybe want me to make some bacon to go along side it?” Luke asked, knowing he’d still be hungry if Deckard only planned to feed him a thin scraping of eggs.

Deckard didn’t look up from the fry pan as he poured in the egg mixture. “Ain’t you ever heard of fasting?”

“Yeah, that doesn’t work for me.”

“Look, I’m trying to be fucking romantic so just shut up and put up with what I give you, yeah? If you’re so damn hungry afterwards you can go out and eat a neighbour.”

Luke left his seat and walked around the island to stand behind the brit.

“Don’t you start.” Deckard warned, but Luke was already wrapping his thick arms about the man and leaning his chin on his shoulder.

“Thanks jackass, maybe afterwards I’ll just eat you out again.” Luke grinned, he delighted in how much the brits pale skin turned a blotchy red blush with embarrassment. And even if he was just wanting to watch the man squirm the idea sounded like a good one.

“Get off me ya big gorilla.” Deckard elbowed him in the stomach, causing Luke to grunt and move backwards. “Sit down and wait like a good boy.”

Luke gave Deckard’s arse a hard slap before quickly retreating to the island to sit down. 

Deckard raised a brow at him but said nothing, he only rolled his shoulders and got back to cooking breakfast. Luke could get used to this, and there was the issue. Luke was already used to this. He had never had a morning after go so well. He wasn’t lying when he said to Deckard that they had basic foreplay for a while now. Their relationship had been forged during dangerous situations, and coming out of that with a tonne of respect and trust, added with lust and genuine care would cause any man to fall quickly, and hard. If he didn’t have Sam this would be easier, they could see where they wanted to take it. But Sam’s emotional wellbeing took priority over his love life. He couldn’t have a relationship with Deckard where the man might just up and leave one day, leaving Sam bereft and Luke heart broken. It was a shitty situation for the brit, because he needed to fess up straight away about just how committed he was going to be to all of _this._

Luke didn’t want to have this conversation, but it needed to happen before Sam came home later today. If Deckard wanted out, then they had time for a final fuck and to pack the brit back off to London. Luke took a breath, maned up and spoke.

“Look Deck, I know you’re not an idiot-“   
  
Deckard paused flipping the omelettes and raised a brow, “took you long enough.”

“What I mean is, I don’t do casual sex, I come as a package deal, and I figure you know enough about me to have known all about this before last night.”

Deckard smirked and placed an omelette on his plate and several on Luke’s. “You’re damn right I’m not a fucking idiot Luke. You ever think it could have been casual between us? You’ve got a kid for Christ sake.” He sprinkled chives and pepper onto the breakfast before sliding a plate over to an anxious but determined looking Luke.

“My mum, bless her crooked soul, had a lot of fellas coming and going, never did like that as a kid. So I’m not one to play around in front of a kid.”

Luke fiddled with his stack of omelettes before cutting off a chunk and eating it. Effectively stopping himself from interrupting the brit.

“So I figured, if I fell into bed with you, I wouldn’t be getting out any time soon. Unless you were shit, then kids be damned.” Deckard smiled and sat down across from Luke.

“So you’re in this? Because I need you to really think about this, I can’t have Sam get attached to you, and then you disappear because it’s too much for you.”

“Listen sunshine.” Deckard rolled his eyes and cut up his omelette, “I thought about all of this some time ago, so relax. You’re both stuck me with. Now eat you’re fucking breakfast and be romanced.”

Luke grinned and leaned across the table. He kissed Deckard for a moment and pulled back, “Good.”

*

When Sam returned at lunch time Deckard was on the phone to his sister in his room.

“Hey Sammy, had fun with Aunty Bella?”

Sam dropped her over night bag on the couch and went into the kitchen for a snack. “Yeah it was good, she totally loves the set that Deck got me. We watched a documentary about insects, which was totally gross but so cool.”

“Nice, nice.” Luke followed his daughter and stood in the kitchen awkwardly before sitting on the bar stool and tapping his finger against the island top.

“You alright dad?” Sam asked, raising a brow as he put a couple of cookies on a plate.

“Yeah good.”

“Ok so that’s a lie.”

Luke grinned and stole a cookie, “Ok so maybe it was kinda, I am good though.”  
  
Sam rested her arms on the island top and sighed, looking so much like an adult as she waited her dad out.   
“Knock, knock.” Deckard tapped on the doorway to the kitchen, “Just going for a run.”

“Hi Deck.” Sam grinned and hopped off her seat to hug him.

“Hi poppet, you had a good night?” Deckard smiled down at the girl and rested a hand on her shoulder.

Sam nodded, “yeah it was nice.”

The two shared a smile for a moment before Deck gave her a gently squeeze and pulled away, “see you in a bit.” He cast a gaze over to Luke, trepidation obvious in his expression. If Sam wasn’t comfortable with their new relationship both knew the whole thing would be off.

Once the brit had left the house Luke braced himself for another stressful conversation.

“Sam Honey, I need to talk to you about Deckard.”

“What did you do?” Sam rolled her eyes and sat back down.

“What? Nothing!?” Luke pulled back, his expression perplexed.

“Uh huh.” Sam crossed her arms. “So what is it? Is he leaving?”

“No, no, um actually I was thinking he could stay…if you’re ok with that.”

“Oh, I thought you did something to annoy him and he was leaving.” Sam bit into a cookie and began to swing her feet.

Luke laughed and shook his head “No, he’d like to stay-“

“Well that’s good. It’s about time you started dating someone.”

“You don’t mind?”

“Deckard’s cool.” Sam shrugged her shoulders.

Luke frowned, “You don’t seem surprised.

Sam rolled her eyes, “When we were in Samoa you kept giving him the ‘brow’, so I knew you really liked him. And he’s always wanting your attention, so it was obvious.”

Luke sat back and thought for a moment. He was beyond pleased with his daughters blessing, but now he began to wonder just how obvious they had both been. Or maybe his daughter was just astute as he was.

“Ever thought about a career in the CIA?”

“Ugh, no. Engineer all the way.”

Luke grinned and ruffled his daughters hair, “alright alright.”

*

Later that evening while Sam was off having a bath, Luke had dragged the brit into his lap on the couch for some snuggling while the roast was cooking in the oven. Fuck Deckard was a good cook.

Naturally their snuggle turned into Luke giving Deckard a massage, but now his hands were able to travel all over. He was currently massaging the brits thighs, spreading them wide between his own and working the muscles loose.

“Spoke to Hattie.” Deckard sighed, leaning back into him.

“Yeah? How she going?”

“A lot better. She, ah, she’s been asking when I’m coming back.”

“And?”

“Well, I don’t know really.” Deckard admitted, shifting as if suddenly uncomfortable.

“You know Sam and I are happy to have you here. But I know you might need some space, so you could keep your place in London, go there sometimes.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I imagine Mr. Nobody will want you back in the UK to take care of that side of the world.”

“Yeah probably.” Deckard sighed, seeming put out.

“The US is a big place though, could probably do with another agent here.” Luke began kissing the brits throat, not liking the idea of Deckard leaving the US for any reason.

“Reckon you’re getting old Luke? Need a hand do ya?”

“I’m just saying it would be handy having another agent on hand when I’m too busy with coaching soccer.”

“Oh that’s right, big soccer dad here. Don’t worry sure I’m sure I could handle strutting around wearing tight tank tops, and imprisoning innocent MI6 agents.”

Luke laughed and picked up Deckard and tossed him onto the cushions, pinning the man underneath him. “Innocent? Huh, so all that shit that you caused Dom and his crew wasn’t you, yeah? And as I recall you weren’t an MI6 agent at that point, pretty boy.”

“Bite me fat boy.”

“Oh don’t tempt me princess.”

Luke leaned into Deckard and kissed him. With a touch of their lips he felt most of his tension drain out. Kissing the brit felt like no other. They both fell into the sensation with nothing to prove, and held nothing back. Luke had always been a bit sceptical of people who said true intimacy was conveyed in a kiss, and how you could completely convey your care and wonder for the person. But now he knew, kissing Deckard made his body sing with delight and heat with lust. He loved the sounds the brit would make, how he couldn’t keep in the whines or sighs of pleasure. Luke didn’t bother trying to hold back his own.   
He sucked a bruise into the brits lower lip, taking pleasure in the hoarse groan and blissed out expression. The mans neck was stretched out below him like an invitation. Luke gave him one last bite before speaking.

“Just move in here.” Luke sighed, running his hands down Deckard’s sides.

Deckard pulled him a little closer and kissed him back, gripping the back of his neck and licking into his mouth. Giving Lukes own plump lip one last bite he pulled back.

“You have got to be joking. I’m surprised you can fit through the doorway.”

“’C’mon.”

“There’s no way Hercules.”

Luke tried to hide his disappointment. He knew he was going too fast, pushing for too much way too soon. But he knew, it resinated as a truth that Deckard was it for him. And while he was all in, he needed to respect any reservations Deckard might have.

Deckard grinned up at him and ran his hands over his arms, “maybe if you buy a bigger house, something a little more updated.” Deckard shrugged.

“Fuck Deck.” Luke kissed the brit, pressing his weight into him and trying to convey into the kiss just how mad he was about him. “I know this is fast, but fuck.”

“Yeah, fuck it Hobbs, we’re going all the fucking way.”

*

Deckard pulled Luke towards the bed and bit into the mans lip. “Owens gonna fucking kill you, you know that right?”

Luke ran his hands over Deckard’s back before settling on the mans arse and tugging him closer, “Huh, why?” He asked, too distracted to really talk about the Shaw family.

“Once he finds out from mum that I’m not coming back to London, but instead shaking up with you, playing house.”

Luke skimmed his fingers around Deckard’s trouser line before opening up the zip and yanking them down. “Fuck.” He palmed the brits arse, his hand sliding up and over the boxer clad bum. “Let him try, I’ll throw him from a plane again.”

“Oi!” Deckard punched Luke in the stomach, but still held him close enough to kiss, “that’s my brother you’re talking about. Now accept the fact that my brother is gonna have some words with you and hurry up and take me to bed before I die of old age.”

Luke slapped an arse cheek and grinned, “So bossy.”

“Oh you’ve got no fucking idea sunshine.” Deckard kicked off his pants the rest of the way and grinned. He walked backwards until the back of his knees hit the back of the bed, Luke following him dumb struck the whole way.

“I’ve got a pretty good idea already boy.” Luke smoothed his hands up Deckard’s hips, his fingers slipping under the mans top. He slowly peeled it off, enjoying every inch of the pale body that was revealed before him. “I wanna be on top tonight.”

Deckard yanked his top off the rest of the way and considered the request with a raised brow. “Is that so?”

Luke ran his hands down Deckards torso, his fingers smoothing over the light dusting of chest hair before squeezing the mans nipples and moving lower. Luke leaned in to kiss him, his tongue curling around the brits and turning it filthy.   
He gently eased the boxers down, fingers spread wide down muscled thighs.

“Yeah, wanna pin you down and make you take it.”

Deckard curled his hands around Lukes shoulders and fisted the back of his shirt. “Yeah? Reckon you got what it takes to hold me down?”

“Fuck yeah I do.” Luke gripped the mans hard dick, curling his fist around it and setting a slow rhythm.

“Then prove it.” Deckard bit into Lukes jaw, his gaze challenging as he laid back on the bed.

Luke only missed that hot smooth skin in his hand for but a moment before he was yanking his shirt and trousers off, almost falling over in haste.

“Look at that, got agent Hobbs tripping balls over a little ass.” Deckard laughed, spreading his thighs and stroking his own cock.

Luke kicked his clothes away and grabbed Deckard’s knee and thigh. Quick as anything he flipped the man onto his belly and settled on top of him. He palmed the brit arse, his fingers digging into the flesh and squeezing. “Wouldn’t call this a little arse Deck.”

Deckard laughed and looked over his shoulder, “You saying I got a fat arse Luke?”

Luke began kissing down Deckard’s shoulders and back, his hand still squeezing that scrumptious arse. “I’m saying you’ve got a perfect ass Princess.” He was rewarded for his praise by Deckard groaning into the bedding and lifting his arse up and spreading his thighs. “That’s it baby.”

He bit marks into the brits milky white skin, taking note of the various scars that littered his back. His hand slipped from the soft arse cheek to dip into his crack and slide his fingers against his dry hole.

“I’m gonna eat you out honey, but you gotta be quiet.”

“Oh fucking Christ.” Deckard groaned. He leant up onto his elbows and stared over his shoulder as Luke moved further down his back to settle between his thighs. He could never admit it out loud, but he loved how much bigger Luke was. The man was built like a tank and Deckard had fantasised plenty of times of being pinned by the other man. He watched as Luke’s large tan hands gripped his cheeks and spread them, and fuck wasn’t that a delicious sight.

Luke wasted no time with teasing. He got straight to it. He licked up the brits crack, straight from his tight ball sack to his hole. Licking over his hole repetitively he got lost in it, loving hearing Deckard’s pathetic muffled whimpers. He hands began to kneed the man cheeks, his tongue thick and persistent as he pressed it against the quivering muscle. Saliva dripped down his chin and rubbed into his cheeks. He pulled back for a moment and spoke, “get the lube.”

Deckard swore but hurried to reach across the bed to the draw to find the lube. Luke didn’t pause, still eating the other man out, even as he was being sworn at.   
The small bottle of slick hit him in the head, but still he didn’t pause. He found the bottle, uncapped it and poured it into his hand.

Pulling back he surveyed his handy work and stroked his cock. Below him Deckard was a mess. His shoulders tense and trembling, hands gripped at the sheets, his arse cheeks were red and the press between his cheeks was slick with saliva.

“If you don’t do something in the next second I’m taking over.” Deckard growled, but Luke easily heard the tremble in his voice.

He pressed a hand down on Deckard’s upper back. Pinning him to the bed as his slicked fingers slipped between the mans crack and pressed against and into his hole.

Again Luke seemed to get lost in it as he prepared the brit. It was almost hypnotic watching his thick fingers slowly work that tight pink hole open. Below him Deckard groaned and bit back whimpers as one finger became two, then three.

Soon Luke was satisfied with how stretched and wrecked Deckard’s hole looked. He pulled his fingers free and quickly slid on a condom. Shifting his weight, he settled back over Deckard. Curling a hand under a shoulder Luke brought Deckard’s back flush against his chest. He shifted his hips, settling his cock against the mans slicked up arse. Using his free hand he guided his cockhead to press firmly against that wet hole and push in. He bit into Deckard’s shoulder to muffle his groan, conscious to keep the noise down even if Sam was down the other side of the house.

“Of fuck Luke!” Deckard cried out, having no such mind to keep the noise down. He lifted his hips up as much as he could with the solid weight of the giant of a man above him.   
Luke moved his free hand to cover Deckard’s mouth. He snapped his hips forward a few inches before pulling back and repeating the motion again and again.

His body trembled with the sensation. His dick fit so damn snug, the brit’s inner walls a constant unrelenting hot pressure about him. Keeping a hand against the mans mouth, only just keeping he whines from getting too loud, he pressed in the rest of the way. His body trembling as his cock was completely engulfed in pure ecstasy.

“You gonna be quiet for me Princess?” Luke asked, easing his hand off Deckards wet mouth to reach down and take hold of the mans hip. He angled him up a little better and eased his cock out a couple of inches before slowly sliding back in.

“ _Ah_ , Luke, _fuck,_ put your fingers in my mouth.” Deckard groaned. He spread a hand out before him, bracing himself against the bed as the other reached back for Lukes free arm.

Luke was all too happy to oblige the request; he’d even say it sounded like the brit was begging him.

He tightened his hold on the mans shoulder and licked up his neck. Spreading his fingers out he ran his hand from the mans hip up his back, over his shoulder, around his straining neck and slid two fingers into Deckard’s open mouth.

Once the brit was effectively plugged up and sucking on his fingers, he really started to fuck him. He snapped his hips back and forth, the pace rough and deep. He muttered dirty words and praise into Deckard ear. Alternating between biting the mans neck and kissing it. Deckard sucked his fingers like he was desperate for it, and Luke was beyond aroused by the wet suction on his cock and fingers. Although he was stuffed full from both ends the brit was still noisy. His hole squelched as Luke thrust his cock in and out, the rim pulling at his dick on the withdraw each time.   
Saliva dribbled down the mans chin, his eyes screwed shut. He still whined with each thrust; the noises punched out of him.   
Again Luke was in danger of cumming before his partner. Everything about Deckard was just too damn sinful.   
“Touch your dick.” Luke growled, not letting up on his pace.

Deckard squeezed a hand underneath him and gripped his neglected sore cock. There was no room to wank, Lukes body punching the air out of him with each thrust. He was effectively pinned into the bedding, but still the new pressure around his dick was enough to cause his body to jolt with pleasure and cum with a deep satisfied groan.

“Fuck, did you just cum?” Luke bit out. He slid his wet fingers out of Deckard’s mouth and wrapped his hand around the mans neck. Applying gentle pressure he brought Deckard’s head towards him, causing the man to arch his back.

“Fucking hell Luke.” Deckard sighed, although his body was still being jolted by Luke’s demanding thrusts he was swimming in the euphoric pleasure from cumming.

Luke growled and taking his hand from the mans shoulder he spanked him several times. His thrusts became unpredictable and jarring. Sweat rolled down his back, his balls pulling taught and his hands pulling tight as he felt the first warnings.

“’C’mon Luke.” Deckard panted, he reached behind and grabbed a handful of Lukes arse cheek and pulled.   
Luke thrust one, two, three times before he pressed as deep as he could and came. He closed his eyes and lolled his head, letting out a deep groan he rolled his hips, easing the last of his pleasure out. He eased the grip he had on the brit and smoothed his hands out against the pale skin. They stayed still for a moment, simply breathing and revealing in the after glow.

Slowly Luke eased his cock out from that wet clutch. Even getting soft his cock still looked too big to find inside that abused red hole.

“You good?” Luke asked, his breaths loud in the quiet room.

“Perfect.” Deckard groaned sleepily. “Now get down here and cuddle me, jack ass.”

Luke grinned and fondly slapped the mans arse cheek. “Not before I clean us both up.”

“Fuck that.”  
  
“Nope, not dealing with your cum everywhere again.” Luke hopped off the bed and went into the bathroom. He grabbed a wet hand towel and headed back into the room to clean them both up. His body ached with deep satisfaction, his mind hazy with good thoughts.   
Once wiped down, and Deckard’s cum patch on the sheet was dealt with as best as possible – much to the amusement of the brit – Luke flicked the light off, got under the sheets and pulled Deckard towards him.

The brit cuddled up to him, and Luke enjoyed the quiet intimacy for awhile before speaking. “You should just take your shit out of the guest room and move in here.”

“Hmmm, your rooms a fucking mess, and have you seen the sorry state of your wardrobe?”

Luke grinned and kissed Deckard. “Such a Diva.”

Deckard grinned into the kiss and slapped his torso, “Oi, I resent that.”

“Such a Princess then, how’s that?”

Deckard wriggled into Lukes torso until he was comfortable and sighed in contentment, “hmm better.”

*

It was the first Saturday morning of the month and that meant Soccer.

Both Hobbs had gotten so used to having Deckard in their lives now completely forgot to inform him. Sam and Luke were busy getting ready, both chatting about tactics and the weather and Deckard watched over the rim of his morning tea. Catching on pretty early that Sam’s soccer game was today.

“You coming Deck?” Sam asked, her dad behind her expertly braiding her hair.

“Course poppet.”

*

He wouldn’t admit it out loud but he hadn’t actually thought about what a kids soccer game would look like. He hadn’t expected so many parents on the side line, or just how excited Luke was for the game. He had even asked Deck to wear a Red Dragons t-shirt, but the brit refused, that was until Sam asked. They didn’t actually have a top in his size, so he wore a cap instead.

They were just shutting the car doors when Luke threw a look over the field and told Sam to run ahead.   
Deckard raised a brow but was cut off asking any questions when Luke pulled him close and kissed him. It wasn’t a peck, or even a kiss most would consider polite for public spaces. It was passionate and just a little bit demanding. Luke pulled back and gave him an extra sweet peck on the lips.

“What was that for?”

“Do I need a reason?” Luke asked, swinging the supply bags over his shoulder and grinning.

“No, but you had one.” Deckard squinted up at the other man and tried to read him.

“’C’mon, coach can’t be late.”

Not used to such behaviour, Deckard cut himself some slack that it took a little longer than normal to figure out what the kiss was about. But when he saw it, it was glaringly obvious.

While Luke stood on the sidelines, following the girls up and down the field, Deckard chose to stand near the bleachers. He didn’t want to sit down next to a bunch of strangers, but it didn’t stop the strangers from speaking to him.

He waited until after the game, Red Dragons winning of course, to confront Luke. 

“Found out why you put the moves on me earlier, got yourself quite a fan-club over there, twinkle toes. And if you think snogging me in public is going to get them off your back, then you don’t know anything about gay men and women.”

Luke frowned and looked over at the gathering of women, “they giving you trouble?”

Deck laughed and shook his head, “settle down Hercules, although it is tempting to see you rugby tackle a group of middle aged women in the middle of a soccer field and punch their lights out, you miss understand me, as usual.”

“Well what is it? They about to give Sam some shit?”

“Fucking hell. You know you live in a pretty democratic area right? The only thing on these ladies minds now are getting fashion advice from me, and sex advice from you. Welcome to a new kind of suburban hell.”

“What did you tell them Deckard?”

The brit grinned and curled a fist into the soft material of his shirt to pull him closer, “oh I didn’t have to tell them anything, you’re the one who laid the moves on thick. Darling”

“Oh excuse me, Mr Hobbs?” A sweet looking Japanese lady said, standing a couple of feet away from them.

Luke pulled away from Deck and smiled, “Oh Yuki’s mum, Hi.”

“Hello, my name is Minori and I wanted to invite you and your lovely partner here Deckard over for dinner this week sometime.”

“Oh.” Luke was taken aback, sure the ladies had always made moves on him, but he had never been invited to dinner.

“Well now isn’t that lovely, unfortunately -“ Deckard placed a hand on his heart, “I’m on a business trip back to London at the end of this week, but I’m sure Luke would love to come. If you can afford to feed him of course.”

Minori and Deckard shared a laugh while Luke stared on in horror.

“Of course, of course, I’ll arrange it with you later in the week then Mr. Hobbs, and I wish you safe travels Deckard.”

The Japanese lady left with a smile and a poorly hidden victory fist pump.

“What the actual fuck Deck?” Luke rounded on the man, turning his back on the grinning group of mothers.

“Cheer up, sunshine, it’ll be good for you.”

Luke stepped closer to the cheeky brit, hands on his hips and staring down at the smaller man. “And the last I was aware you weren’t leaving the country.”

“Well, she doesn’t have to know that, does she.”

“Boy, you’re on the right track for a good spanking.”

Deckard grinned further and pulled Luke down for a quick kiss, “Good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was considering continuing this as a mini series, I've got an idea of the Shaw family turning up to give Luke the shovel talk, but eh, we'll see if ppl are interested.   
> Hope you all enjoyed it, comments are my smut cocaine, pls be my dealer.


	3. Chapter 3

It was a sunny Wednesday afternoon and they had taken Sam to the park. As far as Luke was concerned no one was too old for the playground, that included Sam and himself. Deckard was watching from the nearby bench as Luke chased his daughter around the jungle gym. Sam was screeching happily as she leapt from equipment to equipment as Luke tried to reach her from below.

Deckard smiled and laughed to himself, enjoying watching his new family.

“Well, I must say, always hoped to see you in this position, but never dared hope.”

Deckard grew tense and sighed as his mother took a seat next to him.

“Christ mum, how did you get out of the country?”

“Hello to you too darling.” Magdalene Shaw kissed her sons cheek and crossed her legs, getting comfortable with a portable cup of tea.

Deckard took a deep breath and looked over at his mother. She looked as bright as ever. Dressed in a crisp white dress with red heels she didn’t look a day over 60.

“Now Hattie always did spin the wildest tales, but this one, well I had to see for myself.”

Deckard leant back into the bench and thrust a hand out, “well here I am, check in done.”

“Don’t be like that Dex.” Magdalene pouted and took a sip of tea. “Now what was I to think when Hattie told me you were playing house with a big American brute?”

“I would hope that you _thought_ I would know what I am doing.”

“I’m ok with you playing house Dex, but if you get attached to that little girl and things go south between you and Hobbs, well you won’t be able to see her anymore. Are you sure Hobbs is as committed as you?”

“Yes, fuck, mum I’m sure. You know he’s risking more here, right?”

Magdalene took a sip of tea and shrugged, “Of course if things got that bad, we could always knock him off and adopt her. You know I’ve been waiting for one of you three to have kids.”

Deckard raised a brow, “Is what you are here for? Plan murder and subsequent adoption?”

“Of course not-“ Magdalene waved her hand in a dismissive manner, “I just wanted to know what kind of house you both want? I’ve also found some fantastic private schools for Samantha too.”

“Mum, we’re not moving to London.”

Sam was now on the swing set, jumping off at the apex and landing perfectly. Luke was standing by, his arms crossed. He raised a brow at Deckard once he saw who was sitting next to him, but Shaw only responded with a small shake of his head. He did not need back up with his mother, not yet at least.

“Well why not?” Magdalene clicked her fingers to take his attention back.

“This is their home and-“

“London is your home, plus you’ve got more family over there then Mr. Hobbs has here.”

“I don’t think-“ Deckard shook his head.

“Course you haven’t, now have you asked that gorilla about moving?”

“No-“

“Well then I will.”

“Mum!”

“What! London is far safer, no gun violence in schools, and you know Sam will get a better education.” Magdalene finished off her tea.

“Mum Christ! Look, it’s a lot easier for me to move here, I don’t have any attachments in London-“

“-lovely” Magdalene rolled her eyes.

“-You know what I mean, I don’t even have a dog over there.”

“Well I don’t like it.”

Deckard sighed and turned to fully face his mother. “ _You_ don’t have to, but me and Hobbs? We move as team, and right now the team is in favour of staying here. I ain’t gonna rock that boat.”

Magdalene smiled and rubbed his shoulder, “Oh Dex you bloody idiot, you’re smitten aren’t you.”

Deckard smiled, shook his head and looked back at the Hobbs duo. “Yeah, I am.”

Soon Sam was done playing on the jungle gym and became more interested in who Deckard was talking to. She ran over to the bench with Luke taking big strides to keep up.

“Hey Deck, who’s this?” Sam asked with a smile, still a little out of breath.

Deckard stood up and smiled down at the girl, “Well Sam, this is my mum.”

Magdalene stood up and smoothed out her dress.

Sam grinned and hugged Magdalene. The older woman was only surprised for a moment before she wrapped her up in a fond hug. “My boy has told me so much about you sweety.”

“No I haven’t.” Deckard scoffed.

Magdalene bent down and cupped Sams chin. “My son is a right idiot, I hope he’s not too annoying.”

Sam smiled up at the brit, “Nah, he’s alright.”

Magdalene stood back up and raised her chin to introduce herself to Luke.

“Well, that other bald friend of yours Dominic thought you were a decent fellow, but I’m still surprised to see my son shaking up with you. It’s a pleasure to _finally_ meet you Mr. Hobbs.”

Luke, the ever-charming bastard that he was, only grinned and pulled Magdalene in for a bear hug. “The Hobbs are all huggers ma’am, and you’re a part of the family now.”

Magdalene grimaced and muttered so only Luke could hear her, “I wouldn’t say that just yet love.”

Deckard stuffed his hands in his pockets, “Well, we’ve got to get home mum, so I’ll see you around.”

For whatever inane reason, Luke wrapped an arm around Deckard’s shoulders said, “Why don’t you come back with us Mrs. Shaw? We’d love to have you over for dinner.”

Magdalene raised and brow, took in her sons pinched expression and smiled. “How kind, of course I’d love to.”

*

Dinner had gone surprisingly well. Magdalene was pleased to see how well both men worked together in the kitchen, both were in charge of dinner it seemed, and both easily switched from place as head chef to helper in an instant. She thought fondly of how well Hattie and Deckard worked as a team, and she was happy to see her eldest son find that in a partner.  
The meal was delicious, and Luke didn’t try for too much small talk.

Magdalene was mostly engaged in conversation with Sam, her face crinkling in delight at the girls intelligence and sass. Both men exchanged looks, a silent exchange and agreement that Magdalene could not be unsupervised with the youngest Hobbs for too long, lest she turn her to schemes and nefarious plots.  
Once dinner was finished Deckard and Sam cleared the plates and began to wash up. Luke offered to make her a tea, but she adamantly refused.

“No offense Mr. Hobbs, but the last time a yank offered me a tea it was cold with powdered milk in it.”

Thankfully her son had imported English tea, with a fine bone china tea set. Magdalene smiled as he rose from the dining table and crossed into the kitchen. Inside Deckard was grinning as Sam relayed a moment from school, both busy with the dishes.  
“Sit down mum, I’ll make you a cuppa.”

Magdalene walked towards the kettle – another import, and waved her son off. “I’m fine Dex.”

“I’ll do it” Sam finished drying a plate and came over to the older woman. She pulled out the tea pot, sugar bowl, milk jug, a couple of tea spoons, and three cups and saucers. Placing them all neatly on a tea tray she boiled the kettle and carefully measured out the spoonful’s of tea leaves into the pot.  
Magdalene raised a brow at her son and crossed her arms. She smiled back down at Sam.

“Don’t worry-“ Sam smiled, “Deck taught me how to make proper English tea.” She poured some milk into the little jug and returned it to the fridge.

“Oh I’m not worried at all darling, we’ll make a proper brit of you yet, just wait till your dad sees.”

Sam grinned back and poured the boiling water into the tea pot.

“Sammy, here I’ll carry it in.” Deckard dried off his hands and came to assist.

They had tea in the lounge, with Luke sitting next to Deckard drinking a beer. Magdalene had raised a disapproving brow at the American, but he could only shrug in response.

“You know I spoke to your brother.” Magdalene started, crossing her legs and taking a sip of her tea.

“Whoa, Deck you have a brother?” Sam asked with glee. For most of her life she only had her dad and aunty, but suddenly she had met her whole family in Samoa, and met Deckard and Hattie who were naturally included in her mind. Her excitement at her growing family was brimming with each new found member.

“Yeah, he’s my little brother, Owen.”

“Cool, can I meet him.”

“Absolutely not.” Luke huffed, leaning back into the couch.

Both Shaws’ slowly turned to him with matching disapproving raised brows.

Sam joined in and crossed her arms. “You didn’t want me to meet uncle Jonah, but he was fine.”

“Owen is different hun.”

“Oh yeah? And how exactly is my brother different?” Deckard asked, and oh fuck, he was not getting laid tonight.

Luke cleared his throat and sat up straighter. Why was he suddenly in the dog house?  
“Well, we’ve got some history.”

“You’ve met uncle Owen dad?” Sam asked, she leant forward with a big smile.

Luke did a double take at the mention of ‘uncle’, that would have to be addressed later. “Owen and I met on a case hun.”

“Oh, was he bad?” Sam deflated at the news, but Deckard reached out and brought her into a hug.

“My brother is a bit stupid. He got into some trouble, and your dad was there to pick up the pieces. I think you’d like him. He’s got all these cool scars over his face.”

“Oh sweet! Maggie do you know when Owen will visit?” Sam asked turning towards Mrs. Shaw.

She paused at the nickname, “I don’t know love, maybe I’ll let him know you’d like to meet.”

“That’d be great.” Oblivious to the tension about her Sam switched the conversation to how the royal palace worked.

While Magdalene was occupied talking to Sam, Luke leaned into Deckard and spoke. “We are not having your brother in this house.”

“He’s my fucking flesh and blood Luke-“ Deckard hissed back.

“Look, we’ll talk about this later, but I am not backing down.”

Deckard glared back at Luke, “We’ll see about that.”

  
*

Deckard was riding Luke hard. He honestly hadn’t been expecting to get laid tonight, not with Mrs. Shaw just down the hall in the guest room, or the fact that he had pissed them both off after dinner. They were both trying to keep quiet, but fuck did Deck want it bad tonight. Usually Luke was able to draw it out with some foreplay and at least some ass eating, but tonight Deckard and pushed him onto the bed and got to work.

“Say my brother can visit.” Deckard huffed out, his chest red with extrusion and wet with sweat.

Luke looked up dazed for a moment, his upward thrusts faltering, “What? The fuck Deck!”

“Say it!”

“Oh my god, are you honestly bartering with sex for your insane brother to visit us?” Luke ground out, his expression caught between sexual bliss and disgust at Owen being mentioned during sex.

“I’m not bartering.” Deckard snapped, “I’m telling you.”

Luke moved his grip from the man’s thighs to his waist and picked up the pace. Deckard steadied himself on Luke’s chest as he was jostled forward with each deep thrust.

“The answers no Deck.” Lukes wide hands were wrapped around that tight waist, lifting him up and bringing him down for each thrust, his eyes skimming over Deckards sweating and heaving chest down to his bouncing red dick.

Deckard hung his head, his shoulders tense. “Fine.” He slapped the hands off his waist and gently pulled himself off that thick cock. Luke’s cock slapped against his hip. It was sticky and throbbing red.

“Deck, the fuck?” Luke cried. He tried to grab at Deckard, while one hand cupped his suddenly sore dick. The cool air felt painful and it pulsed with each breath, the heady arousal now stung without the steady pressure of Deckard tight arse.

Deckard swung his legs up and over him before resting on his side, turned away.

“Are you serious?” Luke hissed. He watched in horror as Deckard turned to look at him over his shoulder, he raised a leg and slid two fingers back into his red swollen hole.  
“Dead serious Luke.”

Luke flipped over to his side and pulled at his dick as Deck began to finger himself. “What do you want me to say? Sure lets invite your crazy fucking brother over?”

Deckard arched his back, making sure to brush his legs up against Luke’s. “You know Cipher got into his head, just like Dom. Now where’s that Toretto spirit of forgiveness?”

Luke smoothed a hand over Deckard’s waist, resisting tugging him closer but needing to touch him. Those wicked fingers had sunk in deep, and he couldn’t take his eyes off that stretched red rim. The slick sounds were mostly covered up by Deckard speaking about his annoying brother.  
“Goddamnit you’re such a Diva.” Luke growled.

“Damn right, now say my brother can visit and you can finish fucking me.”

“Dammit Deckard.” Both knew he stood no chance of denying Deckard anything, especially during sex. Goddamnit.

“Fine.” Luke wrapped an arm around the brit and pulled him in close. He pushed the hand out of the way and lined up his dick. “Your son of a bitch brother can visit, but he ain’t coming here and he ain’t staying overnight”

“Deal.”

Luke pushed his cock back into that welcoming heat, and his defeat felt like triumph.

*

Deckard was cleaning his new selection of guns in the home gym. Sam was at school and Luke was at work, so the house was quiet and lent itself to some meditation time. He had sent up a table and a chair and got to work. While in the middle of taking apart a heavy Desert Eagle his phone rang. Seeing his brothers number come up Deckard smiled and put it on speaker.

“Hey.”

“What’s this bullshit that Hattie won’t shut up about?”

“Yeah, thanks Owen, I’m good too, nice weather, shit food, how’ve you been?” Deckard took all the parts apart and began to oil them up and scrub them down.

“Well I haven’t been fucking the enemy Deck.”

“Oi, I’m still your older fucking brother, show some respect.”

“Oh fucking great. So you have shacked up with that meat head. What the actual fuck Deck!?”

“Listen, he’s the bravest man I’ve ever met and-“

“He threw me out of a fucking plane Deck!”

Deckard rolled his eyes, “Technically your own stupidity and Dom threw you out of the plane.”

“You said you’d get revenge. And now you’re fucking the enemy.”

“Aye watch your mouth. I got your revenge for your stupid mistake; it’s done now Owen.”

“You’ve turned your back on the family.”

“No Owen” Deckard slapped the gun pieces to the table and took a breath to get his rising temper under control, “you turned your back on the damn family when you signed up with Cipher! And I regret everyday that I didn’t just hunt that bitch down and get your stupid ass out of it. Because you’re my brother Owen, we stick together, even if you are a dumbass.”

“If you think I’m about to just, play nice and-“

“-Yes I do Owen. Because he’s it for me ok, and you’re my only brother. After the shit show with Brixton I thought you’d be at least fucking pleased-“ Deckard scrubbed a hand over his mouth and leant back and sighed, “Look, this is what I’m doing alright. I want you back in my life, even if you are butt ugly, got it? We’ve lost eight fucking years Owen.”

There was a sigh on the other end. Before Owen spoke. “You know I missed you.”

“You better have.” Deckard smiled.

“Yeah well, you were hard to forget. So…fuck it. If you want to play house fine.”

“Good. Now, when you coming to visit?”

“I’ll be there in a few weeks, hopefully you’ve come to your senses by then and I can drag you away.”

“yeah, no fucking chance. It’ll be good to see you again Owen.”

“Yeah, same Deck. I’ve got to go, speak soon yeah?”

“Yeah, see ya.”

Deckard hung up and cleared this throat. The conversation went better then he anticipated. He didn’t have to threaten or even get Hattie involved. It was looking positive.

*

Luke was expecting Magdalene to stick around and try to sabotage their relationship, so he was surprised when she came out several days after arriving with her bright red suit case and announced she was leaving. She wasn’t leaving back to the UK. No Luke wasn’t that lucky, but she was going to stay at a hotel. Deckard protested, but Magdalene said she was very grateful for the hospitality but she knew they needed their own space. She promised to visit regularly.

Luke wasn’t sure what angle she was pulling, and he wasn’t sure he’d even find out.

He had gone around the house hunting for surveillance bugs, but Deckard had tried to reassure him his mother would never stoop to that level. She had other ways of finding things out. He wouldn’t say what, and just that made Luke worry more.

And while he was so focused on what Magdalene might be up to, he completely forgot about his promise to Deckard.

“Owen will be here in a few weeks.” Deckard explained as he was undressing for the shower.

Luke stood stunned for a moment, pants down around his ankles. Deckard closed the glass screen behind him and ran the water.  
Tossing his clothes aside quickly Luke opened up the shower door and made room for himself. Every time he got to shower with Deckard he was always so pleased with himself that he had installed a wide shower head, with plenty of space for both of them inside the spray. As long as they were happy with getting real cosy. Which Luke was.

He reached passed Deckard and grabbed his soap. “What do you mean he’s coming here?”

Deckard turned around and grabbed the soap back. He lathered it up in his hands and began rubbing it all across Lukes shoulders and chest. “I said dipshit; Owen will be here in a few weeks.”

“Oh no, no no. Even though you were a sneaky shit that night I remember stating he could not come _here_.”

Deckard rolled his eyes and rubbed his hands across Lukes stomach, around his sides and down to this groin. “Relax sunshine. We’ll meet him somewhere.”

“Where?” Luke breathed. No matter how methodical Deckard was when they showered together, and he decided to be gracious and wash Luke down, he always got hard. Fuck, even the thought of Deckard wet and naked in the shower got him hard, let alone being in there with him while he ran his hands all over him.

“Fuck knows, where you want to meet him?” Deckard asked, his brows pinched in concentration as he smoothed his soapy hands up and down his dick, pressing his fingers into his foreskin to pull at it to give it a good thorough clean. It was made a little easier as Luke got harder, but the brit paid him no mind. He let the throbbing cock slip from his grasp and stepped close. Pressed from hip to chest he fondled Lukes balls, cradling them in his hand as he got them soapy clean.

Luke sighed in pleasure and wrapped an arm around Deckards waist. Cupping his neck he leant down and kissed him.  
The kiss was indulgent and wet, both taking their sweet time and simply enjoying the intimacy and shared breath.

Deckard slipped two fingers behind his balls to rub against his puckered entrance. Luke was exclusively a top, not that Deckard ever complained, he was a bossy power bottom after all. But the man was diligent with his rub downs.  
Enjoying the sensations none the less Luke growled in their kiss and bit into Deckard’s lips. “Fuck Deck.”

“Yeah.” Deckard sighed and grabbed the hand from his waist, without breaking the kiss he passed the soap over, “get to work yeah?”

Luke was too distracted to really lather up his hand, and he didn’t want to release his grip on Deckard either. So he settled for palming the soap and rubbing it up and down his back. He pulled the brit in closer, pressing his cock into the mans stomach and setting up a slow wet grind.

Deckard pulled away from the kiss and laughed, “You know at this rate I’m never getting clean, c’mon Luke, multitask would you?” He turned around and splayed his hands against the tiled wall.

Luke sunk his teeth onto Deckard’s earlobe and tugged. He quickly soaped up his hands then pressed both palms into the crack of Deckard’s arse and spread his cheeks, “You should know by now I can’t do that with you around Beautiful.” He trailed his fingers up and down the mans crack, his fingertips catching and dragging over the mans tight hole.

Deckard spread his thighs a little wider, arched his back and rested his head against Lukes wide wet chest.

“Now.” Luke skimmed his lips across a wide wet shoulder, “If I eat you out, or once I get my cock into your slutty hole, will you be able to stand up sweetheart?”

Deckard breathed out a sigh and hung his head, “Just hurry up.”

Luke smirked to himself and ran his palms against the brits firm backside, his thumbs spread to dip into his crack and pull. He rubbed his dick into that hot wet centre and rolled into him, simply holding the brits arse cheeks open while teased his hole. “’Cause last time-“ Luke chuckled and gave him a firm thrust, causing Deckard to bite his lips as his knees trembled, “-I remember as soon as I got my dick into you, you could barely stand.”

Deckard closed his eyes and took in deep breaths, starting to feel overwhelmed and overheating beneath the hot water and the man behind him. His mind replayed the scene in vivid detail.  
It was the first time they _tried_ to have sex in the shower, and his own reaction surprised and horrified himself, and delighted Luke to such an extent that the man wore an insufferable grin for a whole week. As soon as the blunt head of Lukes cock slid in and stretched him oh so perfectly his legs had trembled, his hands scrambled to grip onto the tiles before him, and Luke just kept pushing in until Deckard let out a manly cry as his legs crumbled underneath him. Luke had hauled him up and into him, pushing that thick cock completely in, and Deckard went dizzy with the pleasure for a moment.  
Seemed he wasn’t built to _handle_ sex standing up. But it had only happened once, so Deckard was pretty keen to replace that memory with proof that Luke’s cock did not make his knees slip out from underneath him. Of course Luke found the whole experience a sex-god affirming moment.

  
Sucking in a breath Deckard rested his forearms and pressed his chest to the cool tiles, trying to snap himself back to full consciousness with the sharp sting against his nipples.  
“I told you, I was fucking tired that day.”

“Uhuh, sure sweet-thing.” Luke replied.

Deckard heard Luke click open a bottle behind him and steadied himself as best as he could, keeping his thighs and calves tense. His posture was on point, even with his chest pressed into the tiles. Even so as soon as a thick finger began to press against his rim before sliding in, he felt his knees tremble.  
Luke was always diligent in stretching him, even though Deckard usually tried to rush him. But Luke seemed to find the prep another act of foreplay that he indulged in.

Once cleaned and stretched Luke pressed his dick back into the cleft of his arse and sucked a mark into the brits shoulder.

“You ready this time Princess?”

Deckard shot him a glare over his shoulder, “If you don’t fuck me in the next _ah ahh oh fuck_ ” Deckard finished with a moan as Luke began pressing in.

Luke knew how much the brit enjoyed the burn, a heady reminder of just how big Luke was inside him, and so Luke pushed in against the muscle resistance until it eased around his girth. Below him Deckard was trembling, his white hands slipping against the tiles for purchase. He could feel the brits thighs quake. He would never say it out loud but Deckard was such a needy bottom, his body was made for being held down and fucked. The man couldn’t even cope with standing while a stiff cock was up his arse. And because Luke was as much of a bastard as Deckard, he gave a final deep and quick thrust. His cock was swallowed up by that hot clutch and Deckard cried out, his head falling back against Luke’s shoulder as his knees trembled and gave way.  
Luke, the smug bastard, only chuckled and wrapped a wet arm around Deckard waist and heaved him back against him. The action only continued to cause Deckard to shudder and gasp, his needy moans spilling out.  
But Deckard was still heavy, especially when he wasn’t able to hold up his own weight. So Luke pulled out, flattened Deckard against his chest. In a series of quick moves he flicked off the shower, marched Deckard out, tossed a towel against the bathroom counter, and bent Deckard over it. The counter was just a little higher than Deckard liked, hence why Luke never had the opportunity to fuck the brit over it before. To get the perfect angle Luke planted his feet on the bath mat beneath them, heaved Deckard up against the counter so his toes just grazed the floor before slamming back in.  
  
The towel between Deckard’s hip bones saved him from the blunt force, but without any leverage he could only thrust his arms out and hold onto the edge and press up against the steamy mirror as he was forced to take each deep thrust. He tried to keep his moans in. His bows were pinched, his feet were stretched to reach the floor but only succeeded in grazing Luke’s calf and awkwardly pressing against it. He’d never admit it aloud, though his moans and embarrassing wails as Luke angled that cock to stab into his prostate told the truth, he loved it when Luke man-handled him and held him down. He had given up trying to reach the floor, now his thighs were pressed against Luke’s, his feet tense as they hooked around Luke’s calves just trying to hold on.

“Yeah, _fuck,_ that’s it Princess.” Luke growled out, his fingers spread wide over Deckard’s hips as he yanked him back into each thrust. Looking down he watched in rapture as his thick cock slid in and out of that wrecked hole, the rim a tender red, the skin pulled tight and pulling back on each harsh withdraw. Not that he was complaining but Luke honestly didn’t know how Deckards hole kept up with his insatiable appetite.  
“You gonna cry from this?”

Deckard swore on a shaky breath and hid his face against his arm.  
It had only happened once, but that was enough for Luke to praise and gloat, and for Deckard to growl and deny. Several weeks back Luke had rimmed him for what felt like hours, towards the end of it, once Deckard had already cum once and was struggling to cum again, he had been delirious and begging. Luke fucked him into an incoherent mess of course. Yet only afterwards had Luke snuggled up to him and wiped the tears from his cheeks. Neither mentioned it at the time, but every now and then Luke would poke to get the snappy reaction he secretly loved.

Deckard heaved himself up on shaking arms and clenched his jaw, “You’d love that, wouldn’t you, fucking sadist.”

Luke smiled and smoothed a hand up the brits back to curl around and tug on his tensing shoulder. “Nah, babe, just love it when you cry from getting fucked real good.”

Deckard huffed out a laugh that turned into a hitched whine. Without being able to stand, his trembling arms struggled with the onslaught of Luke’s forceful thrusts. The man either didn’t know his own strength or understood it to such a degree that he utilized it to such a dangerous extent.  
Deckard opened his mouth to reply but Luke was keeping up such a steady hard fuck that the only sounds that escaped his mouth were moans and hitched gasps.  
Sometimes Lukes aim was impeccable and Deckard was a hot mess, unable to do anything but take it. His neglected dick was pressed uncomfortably against the side of the counter, the fluffy material of the towel rubbed the head with each thrust. The constant smear of cum lessened the harsh friction.

Deckard let himself drop to his elbows as Luke’s thrusts started to become erratic and jarring. The mans fingertips dug into his hip and shoulder with each tug. The towel had lost all it’s padding through the onslaught and now Deckard felt each sharp pinch against his hip bones. He’d make Luke apologise for the rough treatment with a morning blow job, though both knew one of the many reasons why Luke was so eager to go down on Deckard the next morning was to gaze upon and press into the bruises he left the night before.

Luke yanked Deckard away from the counter and shot a hand down to his dick and gave it a good squeeze. He was too close to cumming and he had always made it his goal to make the brit cum first, even if the brit had the opposite goal.  
Deckard’s fingers stretched out against the counter, his head hung low as he gave a trembling moan and came all over Luke’s fingers.

Luke closed his eyes, his muscles pulled tight as he pressed in deep and gave a few sharp thrusts before coming with a deep satisfied groan, “ _Oh fuuuck Deck_.” His hips twitched forward, riding out the last of his orgasm, relishing the feel of Deckard’s hot clutch, the muscles spasming around his dick. He waited for a moment, catching his breath and enjoying the afterglow of a sweaty and overwhelmed Deckard Shaw beneath him. Smiling to himself he slowly pulled out. His hand smoothing up Deckard’s shoulder and back down. The brit was panting, and Luke stepped back slightly, allowing Deckard to slip from the counter and set his feet upon the floor.

Obviously still overwhelmed the brit held onto the counter and caught his breath. Luke leant back against him, enjoying the contact. He kissed his way up his shoulders, his hands smoothing across his waist.

“Fuck Deck.” Luke grinned and hugged him, “Every fucking day I’m grateful your sister injected herself with that shit.”

Deckard gave a short laugh, “That’s a shitty thing to say.”

“Fuck yeah it is, wouldn’t have this without her though, maybe I should send her a thankful card.”

“Luke.”

“Yeah?”

“Get the fuck off me and turn the shower back on.”

Luke grinned and smacked Deckard’s arse. “Sure thing babe.”

*

They were snuggled on the couch. Deckard wrapped up in Lukes arms as the rain poured outside. It was during the day, and Luke had taken the day off to pick up some Soccer supplies for the team and to spend some _quality time_ with Deckard.

The brit was dozing in his arms. His signature turtle neck soft against his arms as he ran his hands up and down the brits chest and arm.

“You know.” Deckard murmured, leaning back to look up at Luke, “I reckon you’d get along with Owen.”

Luke took a deep breath and tried not to roll his eyes or snap. “This again?” He still wasn’t able to keep his disdain for the younger Shaw at bay though.

“Yes, really Luke. Fuck.”

Both fell into a tense silence for several minutes. Luke kept petting Deckard trying to ease the growing tension.

“You know he always fell into the wrong crowd. Never liked teaming up with me and Hattie, always wanted to be in charge.”

“Mmhmm.”

“I think if he just, shit, if he just spent some time with the right people.”

Luke let out a mean laugh before he could help himself. “What, like Roman and Tej?”

“You know he’d eat them alive.”

Luke rolled his eyes and let out a breath, he really didn’t want to talk about Owen _again_.

“You know I got a fucking second chance.”

“Yeah that’s because you were hot.” Luke admitted shrugging his shoulders.

“He just needs someone to keep him out of trouble.”

“I’m not setting your brother up, alright.”

Deckard snuggled back into his embrace. He closed his eyes and thought for a moment. “Maybe he just needs a dog, you know? Something to keep him grounded.”

Luke spread his hands out and smoothed them over Deckard’s pecs and down his trim figure. “Yeah, sure.”  
He really had no intention of listening about Owen Shaw anymore, he was far more interested in getting Deckard out of those clothes and bent over the back of the lounge before he had to pick up Sam.

*  
Every couple of days Deckard would bring up Owen, and soon Sam began talking about him. She’d ask Luke when Uncle Owen was coming to visit, and he’d had just about enough of Owen already and he hadn’t even arrived. Deckard had a hard edge to him every time Owen was mentioned, as if warning Luke to not say shit about his brother. Luke was very slowly and with great reluctance coming to the conclusion that Owen was very important to Deckard, and he better make nice with the little psychopath if he wanted to make this work long term with Deckard.  
Hell, perhaps Owen didn’t give a shit, but from the smug looks Magdalene would sometimes share across the dinner table when her youngest was mentioned, he figured Owen held the same regard for him. And perhaps Owen was Mrs. Shaw’s wild card. Fuck.

So, he needed to create peace between Owen and himself. Where was his Toretto sense of forgiveness? What would Dom do?

*

“You bought my brother a puppy?” Deckard raised a brow and tried not to smile at the little dalmatian clutched in his mans arms. “You’re trying to buy his acceptance, aren’t you?”

Luke shrugged, “So? Anyway always figured your brother could use a friend, and it looked like he easily mixed with the wrong sort.”

Deckard bit his lip and stepped close to rub the puppy’s ears. “Owen doesn’t deserve her. Give her to me.”

“Honey.” Luke whined, “You have to meet your brother in 20 minutes, and I’m not meeting him again without a gift.”

Deckard tried to take the puppy but Luke moved out of his reach. “Give him the damn wine as a present.”

“Honey, he’s your brother. You said yourself that your brother could do with a dog.” Luke shook his head and settled the puppy in a small crate with soft blankets.

“I can’t believe you walked into his house with a puppy and didn’t give her to me and Sam.” Deckard huffed out an angered sigh and turned on his heel and left the room.

The truth was, maybe he had been a little harsher on Owen then the other foes they had fought, but he also wanted to bribe the younger man into liking him solely so Deckard would be happy. It was clear Deckard was most happy with his family around him, or at least keeping in contact with him. Not surprising really since he’d been in hiding for so long. So, Luke was going to suck it up and be a decent partner and make peace with another wanker. Dom would be proud.

*

Luke wanted to meet Owen somewhere he could flex effortlessly. He wanted to meet him in a bar or at a race. Somewhere he could strut and look bad ass. Ok he wanted to show off and intimidate. He also wanted to make sure Deckard looked smoking hot and was hanging off his arm looking smitten. Yes, he knew it was irrational and Owen wasn’t a rival. Not a sexual rival, but he was still a rival for Deckard’s attention. He had won over Hattie and hopefully Magdalene. But to make this last with Deckard he needed to win over the whole family. Even if Deckard hadn’t met his family under life and death situations which automatically made him apart of the family and easily accepted, Deckard could pull out that gentleman charm when he needed to. Too bad most brits were immune to his American charm. Magdalene had even told him to drop the charming act once. So, he had no plans to even try to charm Owen. Ok so maybe he was by buying the wanker a puppy.

He confused himself when it came to Owen. Because while he wanted Owen to first see him in bar looking like top dog with his brother hanging off his arm, he also wanted to hand him a puppy and make the younger Shaw soften. He honestly didn’t know what method he’d use to get the man to at least accept him. Because while he disliked him, he _needed_ him to like him, and Luke was very aware that Owen held all the cards. So he would either win him over with kindness or intimidation. Easy.

As it turned out Deckard went to meet Owen by himself. Luke tried not to sulk as Deckard kissed him goodbye and drove off to the only authentic British Pub in the city.  
  
He was told he’s meet up with them later when Deckard was ready. So it was three hours later that Deckard called him and Luke got in his truck with the dalmatian puppy that he was seriously considering keeping, and made his way across town.

He parked across the street and watched as Deckard stepped out with his brother underarm. They were both smiling and gesturing to each other. They looked like they both enjoyed themselves.

“Well darling-“ Luke looked to the puppy and bundled her up in his jacket, “-time to face the music.”

He kept a smile on his face as he jogged across the street and stepped in front of the pair. Owens face automatically shut off, but Deckard only grinned wider and leant up to kiss Luke. Good sign so far.

“Owen-“ Deckard grabbed Luke’s hand and curled his fingers about his, “-this is Luke.”

Owen nodded his head, his lips thinning. “Yeah, we’ve met.”

“Fuck sake Owen.” Deckard snapped.

Owen rolled his eyes and thrust out a hand.

Luke pulled his hand from Deckard’s, still keeping the puppy held in his jacket. He shook hands with Owen and gave him a terse smile. They shook once and dropped hands.

“Ah, thanks, for helping Deck kick his ex’s arse again.” Owen straightened his spine and gave him a faint smile.

Luke’s mouth dropped open in surprise, looks like a three hour catch up in the pub may have helped to soften the younger Shaw up a bit. He smiled and looked over at Deckard. “Yeah, well that shit show was well worth it.”

Deckard and Luke were both unaware they stood there silently grinning at each other until Owen grimaced and spoke, “Fuck, you are both smitten.”

Luke laughed, “Oh um.” He gently pulled the now squirming puppy from his jacket and held her to his chest. Although Deckard had assured him Owen preferred animal company to human, and that he’d take excellent care of her, Luke still wanted to gauge the mans first reactions.

As the puppy came into view Owens mouth broke out into a grin. The scars around his mouth and eyes pulling tight. His eyes seemed to shimmer and soften, his whole posture changed from on edge to soft and welcoming. Yeah fuck, now Luke would have to follow through.

“Your brother mentioned you could probably um, do with a dog, so uh.” He gently passed the puppy over to Owens waiting arms. “She’s yours.”

Owen snuggled into the puppy before looking back up, his gaze now assessing and suspicious. “What?”

“She’s a gift Owen, fuck keep up.” Deckard leaned on his brothers’ shoulder and petted the puppy.

“Thought maybe we could start again. We’re gonna be in each other’s lives a lot.” Luke shrugged and took back Deckard’s hand.  
  
“So you thought-“ Owen began kissing her soft head and rubbing her ears, earning licks in return, “you could get me to play nice if you bought me a puppy.”

Both Deckard and Luke shrugged. “Yeah.”

Owen looked back down at the puppy. His whole expression softened again. “Yeah alright.”

*

It was a beautiful Sunday mid-morning and Sam and Deckard had gone to the nearby parklands for a walk. Luke had a conference meeting at home, and Deckard ever the brit, was keen to get out in the sunshine. He wasn’t used to such consistent good weather.

“I got you the same as me.” Sam grinned as she passed over the strawberry icecream cone, topped with sprinkles and a chocolate flake.

Deckard grinned as he took the icecream. “Thanks sweet heart, I love strawberry.”

Sam grasped his hand and began to swing it happily as they walked through the park. They had walked past the lake, off the path and explored under trees, and now they had made their way back onto the main wide path.  
As they passed the numerous benches with other park dwellers Deckard sensed something. He pulled Sam a little closer. The young girl was happily distracted licking up the dripping icecream from her wrist to notice.

“Taken to child abduction I see.”

Deckard rolled his eyes and turned to see his young brother sitting at a nearby bench, a black and white dog tied to it, no puppy in sight. He folded his newspaper and stood up to greet them.

“Sam, this here is my brother Owen.”

Sam stopped eating her icecream and pulled away from Deckard’s hold to tackle Owen with a hug.

Owen grimaced, his hands held above her.

“Be nice now Owen.” Deckard raised a brow and bit into his cone.

“It’s nice to meet you Uncle Owen.” Sam looked up at him with a broad sticky smile.

“Ah, you too.” He reluctantly patted her on the head and gently pried her off.

She looked up at him assessing for a moment before shrugging her shoulders. “Deck said your face was all scarred, and dad said you were mean and ugly. But I think it makes you look…daring.”

“Well now.” Owen bent down on one knee and smiled, “Thank you sweetheart. What else has your father said?”

“Alright, enough gossiping. What are you doing here Owen?” Deckard crunched on the last of his cone and stepped between them.

“Just enjoying the park.” Owen stood up and waved his hand about the scenery, “the same as you.”

“Well, whatever the truth is, it’s good to see you.” Deckard pulled Owen in for a hug, ending it with a wide smile and a slap upside the head.

Sam continued to eat the rest of her ice-cream and watch the brothers fondly.

“Well Sam-“ Owen began, “I thought it best that when I did finally meet you I give you a present. A kind of thank you for putting up with my brother.”

“He’s easy to put up with.” Sam grinned.

Owen smiled back and walked over to the bench. He untied the dog and walked back.

Realization dawned upon Deckard and he quickly raised his hand and waved them about, out of sight of a grinning Sam.

“Is that your dog?” Sam squealed.

The dog was a white and black Pitbull mix. Both ears where black with a black patch stretching down over the right eye. The dog was excited, thick and looked a little dim.

“Well honey, this sweet boy is actually a present. For you.”

Owen let the dog go, and as Sam dropped to her knees to hug the mutt, it snatched the last of her ice-cream out of her hands and gobbled it down. Sam only found his hilarious and hugged its thick neck.

Deckard stood next to his brother. “You have got to be fucking kidding me!?” He hissed.

Owen just shrugged his shoulders and gave him a smug grin. “Deadly.”

“Oh my god, Deckard! I love him!” Sam cried. The mutt was licking her fingers, getting all the sticky substance off. The dogs thick tail kept whacking Deckard’s leg in happiness.  
“Does he have a name?”

“Oh it’s completely up to you honey.” Owen smiled.

“Daisey. Do you like that boy?”

Daisey gave a bark and began jumping all over Sam. She could only shriek in delight, even as Deckard pulled the dog off and held onto the leash.

“Now Sammy, we’ve got to ask your dad.”

“But I heard you two the other night, you were talking about getting a dog, and now we have one.”

Deckard grimaced and looked lost for a moment, “yeah, but poppet, a different dog, like a cute puppy.”

“Ah Deck-“ Owen began, “Daisey is from a pound. It’s important to adopt rescues.”

“Exactly Deck.” Sam chimed in.

“We’ll ask your dad.”

“Ugh” Sam groaned and rolled her eyes.

“Here, take this and go play for a bit.” Owen handed Sam a squeezy pink ball and gave it to Sam.

“Are you sure Owen?” Deckard asked, even as Sam took Daisy on the leash and ran over to an empty patch of lawn to play.

“Of course. Got him from two lads back in Antwerp, Sol and Vinny.”

“I don’t care where you got the mutt Owen, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Owen grinned and patted his brother on the shoulder. “Returning the favour.” With that he grabbed his newspaper, waved to Sam and left the park.

How the fuck was he meant to explain this to Luke?

*

“No fucking way Deck.”

“Look keep your damn voice down.”

“It is down” Luke hissed, leaning further into Deckard’s space. Both men stood in the hallway, looking into the loungeroom with dismay.

“Look I didn’t want to bring the damn thing home, but fuck, she’s in love with the damn dog, what was I meant to do?”

“Why the fuck is it squeaking!?”

“It ate the damn squeaky toy ok, Jesus.”

They both turned to watch Sam brushing the dog in the loungeroom. She was humming along and the dog let out a small wheezing squeak with each exhale.

“We can’t keep it. It’s from your brother, who knows what’ll do.”

“Good point.” Deckard sighed and straightened his back. “Well, go tell her.”

“What.” Luke frowned and waved his hand about, “It’s from your brother, you tell her.”

Deckard raised a brow and crossed his arms. “I’m not doing it. It’s your daughter, so you go in there and break her heart.”

“What!? fuck Deck.”

“Exactly.” Deckard whacked Luke on the chest and pointed to the sight in the loungeroom. Sam was lying against Daisey reading her homework out loud. “Be pissed all you want, but I aint splitting them up.”

“Why didn’t you do something?”

“What? Should I have stepped in and yanked the dog from Sams arms, yeah? Make a whole scene and broke her damn heart?”

Luke pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and groaned. “Fuck your crazy brother. I got him a fucking puppy and this is how he repays me.”

Deckard smoothed his hands across Luke’s chest and sighed, “yeah well, welcome to the family.”

*

It was two days later that Luke received an invitation to the English themed pub to meet with Owen. Deckard seemed pleasantly surprised by the invitation as he relayed the invite to Luke. And Luke being too smitten with the brit could only say he was also looking forward to it.

And so at noon he walked into the beer garden section behind the pub and saw Owen sitting at a lone table. The scars only added to make him look more intimidating and vicious, but Luke was neither intimidated or frightened.

“Where’s the puppy?” Luke asked with a smile.

“Crumpet is with mum.” Owen replied, looking him up and down with distain. Right, good start.

“You, you named her Crumpet?” Luke pulled out his chair and sat down.

“Yes.”

They both stared at each other for a moment before Luke cleared his throat and smiled. “So you wanted to talk? I guess it’s not about wanting Daisey back is it?”

Owen smirked and waved the waitress over. “I’ll have a James Boags.”

Luke smiled and made his order. “Whatever is on tap, thanks.”

The waitress nodded and walked off.

“So, how is Daisey?”

“Well I can tell you that all that training you did with him to eat shoes resulted in him eating your brothers oxfords, so near miss for me.”

“Oh Daisey has no training.”

“You don’t say.” Luke gave him a tight lipped smile. “What is this about Owen. Because this-“ He waved before them “-I want this to work, your brother does too, so lets just get it over with.”

The waitress appeared with the beers, smiled and left.

Owen took a sip of his dark larger and licked his upper lip. “The only reason I haven’t run over your giant ass over yet is because of my brother.”

Luke sighed, so this was how it was going to be. Fine he could play along.  
“Well the feeling is mutual.” He took a sip of his beer and stretched. “’Cause I know if I throw you from a damn train next time, or just straight up break your legs I won’t be getting any head for at least a week.”

The thundercloud that crossed Owens face was poetic and although Luke promised he wouldn’t rile the younger Shaw up, he was still very satisfied with the response.  
“And let me tell you, your brother has an amazing mouth.” Luke gave him a sleezy grin, just daring the brit to lose his shit.

Owens jaw tensed, his lips a thin line and his eyes hard. Huh, Luke was surprised he hadn’t lost it yet.

“How charming, and here I was under the impression you were a gentleman. Deck spoke highly of you, but now I can see you’re just another chauvinist, another disgusting American.”

Damnit, Luke was not expecting just a decent response.

Owen smirked, “Want to try that intimidation technique again Agent Hobbs?” He sat back and took a sip of his beer.

Luke glared over his glass at him and thought. Letting out a tight sigh he set his glass down. “Look, neither of us like each other, but I’m willing to put your asshattery behind us for the sake of your brother.”

Owen shot him an incredulous smile, “Oh really? That’s what you’re trying to do?”

“What do you want Owen, because I’m not about to drop your brother. He’s it for me.”

“Yeah, you might think that now. But I don’t think Deck is as committed as you think.”

Luke frowned in response, not believing that for a moment, but wanting to know where Owen was trying to take this.

“You both might still be concussed from that cluster fuck of a mission, and Deck might still be enjoying playing house with you, but there’s a damn good reason why Deckard never married before alight?”

Luke rolled his eyes and huffed out a sigh, “Laying low for eight years might have something to do with that.”

“Bullshit Hobbs, he’d never married cause he can’t stay in one damn place for long. So for the sake of your daughter I suggest you don’t get too attached.”

“I suppose you’re telling me this out of the goodness of that void where your heart used to be?”

Owen squared his shoulder and looked to the side, “What did he ever tell you about his relationship with Brixton?”

“Enough, and I don’t need any embellishments from you.”

“Yeah, well they were fucking engaged, and guess what Deck called it off because he couldn’t stand the domesticity that Brix wanted.”

“Bullshit.”

Owen lent forward and raised an incredulous brow, “What? You seriously think-“

“You’re a goddamn awful liar Owen, please stop and don’t ever try again.”

Owen sat back and clenched his jaw.

Luke gave him a tight smile and clenched his fists on the table. “Why don’t you start from the beginning. Because I would just _love_ to know why you want to sabotage your brothers happiness so badly.”

“Because he’s a goddamn moron!” Owen snapped, “talking shit about buying a house, becoming a fucking family, oh fucking bite me, because this shit?-“ Owen slammed a hand on the table, rattling the glasses, “-this falling hard and fast will only end in heart break, and I only just got my fucking brother back.”

“Owen, give your brother some credit.”

Owen stood up and slapped some notes on the table, “No. You have no idea what it was like after Brixton. After the breakup and after killing that son of a bitch.”

“Then tell me, fuck, Owen.” Luke stood from the table and followed the brit out of the beer garden.

Owen kept silent and seething as he walked over to this sports car. He unlocked it and began to open the door but Luke slammed it closed and crowded the scarred brit against the door.

“I get it alright, you’re scared out of your goddamn mind about your brother, but you have got to have some faith in him.” Luke jolted back; his body shook with pain. He looked down and saw a small taser in Owens hand.

Owen sneered at him and got in his car. “When this goes south, and it will, I’m going to kill you.”

*

Luke sighed and opened his front door. Meeting with Owen had taken the steam out of him. Somehow the youngest Shaw got under his skin, well, all the Shaws got under his skin, but Owen was the only one left that felt like a rash. He was also the only one to use something as underhand as a taser on him.  
He tossed his keys on the hall stand and rubbed his eyes. Dropping his arms he wondered into the lounge and stood looking despondent as Daisey tore into another dog blanket. The dog still gave a wheezed squeak with each breath and bark. Fuck when were they taking that damn thing to the vets? Next to Daisey, looking cute and calm sat Crumpit, Owens puppy. Wait, what?

“Luke, Dear?.” Magdalene called.

Damnit. Not another Shaw intervention.

She gestured for Luke to come into the kitchen where she stood drinking a cup of tea. “Now, in regards to your relationship with my son there’s a few things I want to tell you.” She placed her tea upon the counter next to her purse. 

“Mrs. Shaw, I mean this with all due respect, but I am in love with your son, and I’m not about to be scared off nor can I be convinced that we’re moving too fast. I’m not about to take this gift for granted, he’s it for me.” Luke finished by crossing his arms, before dropping them, realising his postured turned threatening.

“Well lovely.” Magdalene raised a brow, “It may come as a surprise Mr. Hobbs, but I’m not here to put a fox among the hens, I love my son too much for that, and I can see you two bloody idiots are head over tits for each other.”

“Oh.” Luke relaxed his posture further, really not expecting that. “Then what was with all of that with Owen?”

“Oh, I may not be allowed to shit stir, but I don’t have a problem with Owen doing it.”

Luke clicked his tongue and nodded, “Right. I see.”

“Now.” Magdalene raised her chin, “he’s a good boy and deserves the best. So I’m here to make sure you have honourable intentions.”

Lukes mouth dropped open slightly, “uh, are you asking me to…to marry your son.”

“yes.” Magdalene pursed her lips and crossed her arms.

“Uh.” Luke rubbed his head and looked around the room in disbelief.

“If you’re doing this, the both of you, you’ll do it properly and put a bloody diamond on his finger, or are you reluctant because you’re not committed?”

“Um no, uh, I didn’t think Deck would, I mean.”

“Give me a straight answer love. Will you marry him, yes or no?” Magdalene pulled out a folder from her purse and handed it over to a stunned Luke.

He carefully opened it up to see it was a marriage licence. “Uuuh.”

“Close enough.” Magdalene tapped the papers, “I’ll give you a couple of days hun, but I expect you both to move to London.”

With that Magdalene left the kitchen.

*

Later that night both men lay in each other’s arms, recovering from another session of sex. Deckard was leaning against Lukes sweaty chest. Luke stroking his fingers through his chest hair.

“Been looking at places on the market.” Luke stated softly.

“Hmm, what country?” Deckard asked, not even aware what he had just said.

Luke paused and sat up a little straighter, “Do you not want to live in the states? I thought what your mum said was just-”

Deckard scrunched his eyes up and rolled into Luke’s embrace to hide his embarrassment. “What did my mum say?”

Luke ran a wide hand down the curve of Deckard’s back and snuggled into him, “She said a couple of things, but she expects us to move to London.”

Deckard turned to rest his head on Luke’s shoulder, “I don’t expect you and Sam to uproot to London for me.”

“But…you wouldn’t object to it?”

Deckard fidgeted and rolled over and pulled Luke’s arm tight around his waist. “Look, I’m happy to stay here, you know, get a bigger house, whatever.” He ran his fingers over Lukes fingers and paused for a moment, “But Sam would be safer at school, food is better, and living here is like living in a cultural wasteland, but…” Deckard sighed, “The traffic there is shit, the weather is even shitter, Sam is happy here now, and this is your home.”

“Fuck.” Luke sighed, pulling Deckard back around to kiss him easier, “You’re perfect, you compact little bastard.”

“Oi!”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daisy the dog yo, anyone remember that insane dog from Jasons iconic movie Snatch? 
> 
> Whelp there you go! Please continue to support my crack-comment-cocaine addiction.  
> Do we want another chapter? :/

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading bruh


End file.
